Loneliness of a Long Distance Runner
by comeonbabyplaymesomething
Summary: Fifteen years later and Caroline finally makes it to New Orleans with trouble on her heels and most of her friends in tow. It's not exactly the fairytale ending he'd predicted all that time ago, but then when have any of their lives ever gone according to plan?
1. Chapter 1

**My first attempt at a multi chaptered TVD story and it's just because I can't wait all summer for resolution. Canon up to the season four finale, but totally veering off from there and will include all living originals and almost all of the Mystic Falls crew. Lots of drama and love and Klaroline eventually. **

**Chapter One**

The guy she's with, his name starts with a B she thinks, is all hands and she's gripping the key to her apartment so tight in her fist she might be bending the metal. He's got five calloused finger toying with the hem of her dress and the others ticking up the back of her arched spine. He mentioned something about playing guitar. God what is his name? Brandon? Benjamin? She screws up her eyes in thought, but then his hand slips beneath her dress and presses against her thigh the question evaporates. His breath is hot on her neck and it is so rare to find a guy this age that is so good with his hands.

She's just managed to slip the key into the lock of her apartment, which really, she feels she deserves some recognition for. It has been years, literal years since she's been this drunk and this eager. Her apartment door is very lucky it chose not to be fussy tonight, because she was a few seconds away from knocking it down with one high-heeled foot.

They are so close, so blissfully close to falling into her apartment when the elevator door dings behind them and a laugh she recognizes fills the hallway. "You know Barbie," Damon drawls, "I always forget you can be fun."

"Seriously," she hisses against B-something's cheek. He's tactful enough to remove his hand from underneath her dress thank God, because even now there is no greater turn off for Caroline Forbes then the sound of Damon's voice. It brings back memories of her weakest self, a girl she wouldn't recognize now even if she were standing right in front of her.

"You know this guy?" B-something asks hoarsely. He's a smoker, and as she's shaken out of her lust haze she realizes her reeks of cheap cigarettes and whiskey. Gross. She runs a hand through her hair and swallows hard, alcohol impeding her usually quick wit. She has no idea how to explain Damon, because she has no idea what Damon is doing here. He's not even supposed to know where she lives.

Over her shoulder she sees Damon smirk and start crossing the hall towards them. "From a past life," Damon answers for her, "One that unfortunately requires revisiting." When Caroline continues to stare at him blankly and B-something still doesn't move away from her Damon grits his teeth and adds, "Right. Now."

Caroline nods finally, noting the crazy flare of Damon's eyes and recalling with dazed bitterness his cavalier attitude regarding human life. She cups the boy's face and looks deep into his eyes, "I turned out to be a tease and you're going to go back to the bar to bitch about me to your friends for the rest of the night."

She releases him and he draws back with a deep breath. He blinks at her, bewildered, and she feels a pang of guilt as she remembers again her past experience with the man standing by her doorway like he somehow belongs there. Then B-something's eyes darken and he turns on his heel without another word. She allows one hand to fall back to her side while the other touches her swollen lips lightly. So close, she always seems to be just a little bit of something away from getting what she wants.

Damon raises his eyebrows again, "Gonna invite me in?"

There isn't much to appreciate about her sloppy roommate Christa, but on nights like these she is so grateful to have a safeguard against unwanted vampire company. She crosses her arms over her chest, her complacent expression turning into a dubious one. She over-enunciates every word as she asks, "What the hell are you doing here Damon?"

Damon mirrors her stance, crossing his arms, his disposition turning from amused to pissed in less then a split second. He nods at the little purse dangling from her wrist, "Check your phone, Elena's been calling you for hours."

Caroline glances down at the purse and then back at Damon before scoffing and throwing it onto the coffee table. "That's not the phone I use to call Elena," Caroline calls over her shoulder, heading to her room and grabbing her 'special' phone from her nightstand. It's the one she uses exclusively for contacting her Mystic Falls friends. "But speaking of people I'd rather be talking to," she adds as she scrolls down the touch screen and sees that yes, Elena has been hard core blowing up her phone, "Where is she?"

She walks back out into the foyer and Damon is still standing rigid right outside the threshold. He sighs and genuine worry clouds his face. For the first time fear starts to creep into Caroline's mind. Elena is the only person who knows where she lives, and she and Damon wouldn't be here if something wasn't seriously wrong. That was the agreement they'd made all those years ago, minimal contact meant minimal damage. Silas couldn't get them all together and hurt them if he couldn't find all of them.

"In the car sleeping," he replies softly before the fierce look returns to his eye, "She's been fucking hysterical all day and she insisted we get you first. So if you're not going to invite me in you'd better start packing yourself because the car is leaving in ten with or without you."

She looks at him searchingly for a moment before crossing the floor until they're toe to toe, "Damon you can come in, just tell me what is going on."

Damon pushes past her without a word. He goes into her bedroom and starts rifling through her things, locating a duffel bag and tossing random clothes into it. "Matt went missing yesterday," he says as he grabs her least favorite pair of sweatpants and throws them into the bag. She rolls her eyes and vetoes his decision, throwing them over her shoulder while his back is turned.

"What do you mean went missing?" she asks incredulously. Matt lives with an original vampire, and Caroline knows better then anyone how big of a bitch on wheels Rebekah Mikaelson can be. There's no way she would let the alleged love of her life go without a fight.

"I mean," Damon begins as he zips up her duffel bag and throws it in the direction of the door before heading into her adjoining bathroom, "That Bekah came home from a family reunion in Louisiana, which the quarterback didn't attend since he's not that big on her family-"

"For obvious reasons," Caroline huffs as Damon, true to form, surveys her bathroom in the blink of an eye and starts grabbing random bottles. "At least grab me a razor," she adds, motioning toward the shower caddy.

"She came back and their house was torn to shit," Damon continues as he rips the caddy off her showerhead and dumps all of its contents into a plastic toiletry bag. She grabs her toothbrush from the sink and holds it in her hand, twisting it nervously as Damon speaks. She had worried about Matt for a decade as he traveled the globe on his constantly extending sight seeing trip with the girl Caroline and Elena not so affectionately nicknamed The She Devil. It had only been in the last few years that she hadn't had to suppress the urge to call him everyday. She wasn't supposed to have to worry about Matt anymore. "There were obvious signs of a struggle and Matt was nowhere to be found," Damon finishes his sentence and destroying her bathroom. He throws her packed toiletry bag next to her packed duffel bag and heads back out into the living room.

"How big of a struggle could there have been? Matt's only been a vampire for like a year," she asks incredulously. What she really wants to ask is how could Matt have been so stupid as to fight back? How could he have thought he stood a chance?

"There was a lot of blood," Damon ignores her question, and to her surprise he walks over the refrigerator and throws the door open. "Rebekah called going nuts and now Elena can barely speak," the last part of his sentence is said softly and it unnerves her. She still isn't used to seeing Damon be so blatantly obvious about his affection for Elena. He pulls out the handle of vodka in her freezer and takes a long swallow, "Matt knew where we lived and Elena knows where you live and we all know you have Stefan in the palm of your hand. The dominos are falling babee and we're stronger together then apart." He sets the bottle of vodka on her kitchen table and then goes for the blood bags in the back, the ones Christa is compelled to overlook.

Caroline watches him and, swallowing the urge to comment on his term of endearment, thinks. Her mind is racing. They'd know this moment would come. They knew eventually they would be found.

She closes her eyes against the memories she's been trying to outrun since she left Mystic Falls. Stefan's hand on her neck and his voice in her ear. The freezing temperature of the lake in November as she'd dove in and the way he'd looked when they'd finally pulled him out. Her voice is soft when she questions, "It's been fifteen years Damon. We've been apart for _fifteen years_. Why now?"

"No idea," Damon shrugs, and he throws the handle and a few loose beers into the bag holding her blood, "All I know is I'm not letting whatever took Matt get Elena and she insisted we grab you before we fled the continent. So is there anything else you need to bring?"

"You can't protect us from Silas Damon, wasn't that what we decided?" she asks and again her voice is far too soft and tentative. She doesn't like to show vulnerability around this particular Salvatore brother. She usually relegates him to cold stare downs and nasty quips. She is typically much better at hating him and undermining him, but tonight he actually looks…he might even be scared.

Damon's eyes cloud for a split second, and she thinks he might be remembering too. The sounds Stefan had made on the bank of the lake, the way his eyes had flashed as the first drip of blood had fallen into his mouth. The way he'd cursed and cried and crawled and the looks they'd exchanged. He'd been down there for months, almost half a year and they hadn't noticed, they hadn't even thought to suspect. "Maybe not," Damon agrees with a shrug, "but if I can't fight him I can outrun him." He flashes from the kitchen and a moment later he's thrusting a notepad in her face, "Write your roommate a note. Something short and vague so she doesn't have your face on the evening news by tomorrow night."

She snorts, because Christa wouldn't notice something about Caroline even if she had to walk over Caroline's dead body to get to the bathroom. She takes the pen from his hand anyway and scribbles some bullshit about her great aunt back home in the States. She says she may be gone for a while, but not to worry about rent because she'll take care of it regardless. She signs her fake name, Sarah because it was the most mundane and common thing she could think of, and then hands the pad back to Damon.

He's about to turn away when he stops to survey her. His eyes raking her up and down before he asks incredulously, "Do you want to change?"

She arches an eyebrow at him in disbelief, "I can't pack my own bag but now we have time for me to change outfits?"

"We're gonna spend a day in the car and then haul ass through airport security," he explains before adding devilishly, "are you sure you can accomplish that in a fabric swatch and stripper heels?"

She looks down, the dress is tight for sure, but hardly the sluttiest thing she owns. The heels are two about inches higher then respectable, but then she'd been trying to attract attention. "This is a great outfit," she retorts, her face screwing up slightly. Even fifteen years past high school graduation she still resents being judged even a millimeter off of perfect. She may not be Miss Mystic falls anymore, no longer a face that gets recognized everywhere she goes, but she is still Caroline Forbes deep inside, even though she hasn't felt like her in ages.

Damon looks at her once again, and his expression seems to say that he's not arguing but that his pragmatism has to prevail. "For an Italian nightclub," he corrects, "We're headed north, grab a sweater." He flashes away from her and then he' standing in the doorway with all her bags in his hand, "Car's out front, be down in two minutes or we're leaving without you." Then he's gone.

She walks back into her bedroom. The uncomfortable shoes come off first and then she wiggles out of her dress and lets it hit the floor as well. She slips into a pair of jeans Damon had overlooked and the most comfortable T shirt she owns. It's at the bottom of her drawer, balled up as if insignificant. The letters are almost faded away but if she looks close enough she can still make out Mystic Fall Cheer Squad printed across the front. She shrugs it on, it's not like she's hiding anymore.

She grabs her leather jacket from her desk chair and a pair of well-worn ankle boots. Then she crosses her room to the nightstand. She'd never liked any of her many bedrooms in the past fifteen years. Christa's room was filled with pictures on the walls but hers remained steadfastly bare. She didn't collect too many possessions because it made it harder to leave at a moment's notice. She could never really go home again. There was no home now, Silas had made sure of it, and so she had felt uneasy in every beautiful, gorgeous, exciting place she lived. She was never quite comfortable, never quite relaxed. It's almost a relief, she realizes, seeing Damon at her door because at least now she has the option of freedom.

Or death, she reminds herself.

Isn't that always the way her life goes though?

She crouches down and opens the bottom drawer, pushing away all the loose papers and half empty tubes of lotion she pulls out her most prized possession. The wide, leather bound photo album sits patiently as it always has, waiting for the nights when she needs a tether to the life she used to lead. There are pictures of her mother, of Bonnie and Matt and Jeremy. There are pictures of Caroline Forbes before she became Sarah Whoever, before she flung herself into the air like a handful of sand and went wherever the wind decided to take her. She zips her leather jacket up all the way to the neck and grabs the album. Then she leaves her apartment without looking back.

Damon is immediately visible through the glass windows of her lobby. He's leaning against a nondescript black car. He opens the back door for her without comment and she doesn't thank him, only hesitating to say, "The vodka better not be in the trunk."

It actually provokes a smile, just a slight tugging of his lips but still, he hasn't smiled since Elena got that phone call. She shuts her door with a slam and they are peeling away from her building just a moment later. It's pitched black outside, with only a few street lamps dotting the road.

"This isn't the best neighborhood Blondie," Damon observes with a low whistle.

Caroline is only half listening to the admonishment, because it's not like Damon is genuinely worried about her safety. He's only ever cared about her by association, that association always and forever being Elena. However she does feel she owes him some response when she discovers, bless his cold heart, the handle and the blood bags are sitting in the seat next to her. She grabs the alcohol and takes a long gulp, before responding gamely, "The bad neighborhoods don't see me coming Damon."

He actually laughs this time and Elena stirs from her fetal position in the passenger seat. This startles Caroline. She'd almost forgotten Elena was there, that her very best friend was within her line of sight for the first time in fifteen years.

Elena rubs her forehead, squinting out of one eye. "Care?" she mutters and her tone is dreamy, like she thinks she might still be asleep.

"Hey Elena," Caroline whispers softly from the back seat, and Elena's eyes open wide then.

"Caroline," Elena exclaims as she jolts forward. She sits up, barely glancing at Damon before crawling into the backseat. She falls into her blonde best friend's lap and wraps her arms around her neck. The bad things, the last few days she lived in Mystic Falls, flash in Caroline's mind then as she delicately hugs Elena back.

Elena had been the one to find her. The one who had shoved her way past Damon and into Caroline's old bedroom to discover her clutching her mother. Stefan, or what she thought was Stefan at the time, had only disappeared a few seconds before. Caroline was bleeding from both wrists, trying to get her mother to drink her blood. But there was no way, no coming back. There is no healing from a broken neck.

Caroline swallows hard and wills the memory away. She reminds herself that this is her best friend and that they used to sit on her bed for hours and talk about boys and what color schemes they would have at their weddings. They used to stare at her ceiling and wonder how their lives would turn out, back before they knew the world held a million sick surprises for each of them, back when they made plans for the future instead of living from one crisis and heartbreak to the next.

She pulls Elena tighter as the girl's shoulders start to shake, and then Caroline is crying too because Matt could be dead. Matt, who they adore, who had loved them both with such sweetness and devotion.

_She likes projects. _

She remembers that he said it with such affection and such certainty. Like he knew her as well and as simply as he knew the back of his hand. And hadn't he? Hadn't he known because he had been one of her projects and she had been one of his? She is so used to thinking of Tyler as her first and only great love, but there was Matt too. She hadn't been his first choice, in the back of her head she had always known that, but he had been hers. For the littlest sliver of time he had been all she wanted.

They sit like that for miles, until Elena is out of tears again and Caroline's eyes are red and puffy and her muscles feel like lead. They cling to each other because it is the only thing they can do right now.

It's Damon who breaks the silence. He reaches behind to grip Elena's shoulder. "Are you hungry?" he asks her and there it is again, the sweet tone that takes Caroline completely off guard because it sounds so utterly foreign coming out of his mouth.

Elena looks up and catches his eye in the rearview mirror. She musters up the most reassuring smile she can manage and knows he doesn't fall for it when his shoulders don't relax even one millimeter. She reaches out to squeeze his arm. "I'm fine," she promises, but when she sees the bottle resting against the car door she can't resist adding, "Just thirsty."

Elena takes the liquor bottle with her as she slips back into the passenger seat and with nothing else to distract her Caroline moves seamlessly into control freak mode. "Who else knows about Matt?" she asks, her voice too loud in the small car.

"Just Stefan," Elena replies hoarsely, the alcohol isn't going down as smoothly as she'd hoped. "No one has Tyler's number," she continues, pausing when she sees Caroling visibly flinch in the backseat. She lets the moment drag, until Caroline's face is blank again, "I'm the only one who has any idea where Jeremy is and I'd rather not worry him and his family yet." Elena hesitates again for the briefest of seconds, contemplating the starry night before adding, "One of my nieces just started first grade."

Damon's jaw snaps shut with a click and Caroline inhales so sharply it could be considered a gasp. "Oh Elena," she reaches forward to squeeze her friend's hand in her own. She agrees with the decision. Frankly there's way too much that hasn't been explained yet and she's not totally unconvinced Matt's disappearance isn't somehow Rebekah's fault. Jeremy's the most vulnerable among them and there's very little chance he's at risk. He should stay hidden for along as they can allow.

It seems Damon doesn't agree, "Elena, he's the only one that can see her-"

Elena turns in her seat immediately, silencing him with a glare filled with something that resembles hatred. "Do _not_ start again," she hisses, her tone leaves no room for argument and shockingly Damon doesn't push. His knuckles turn white on the dashboard though and Elena takes one, two, three big swallows of vodka before turning back to the window to fume at the sky.

Caroline never does get to ask where they're headed.

**This chapters a little light on action, but don't worry there's a lot on the way. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Damon and Elena's awkward, angry silence stretches for hours and from one country into the next. They are headed north just as Damon said, up and out of Italy and into Austria. She falls asleep as they're passing through the German border, her face pressed up against the car window uncomfortably.

Her dreams are hazy and, as usual, red tinged and violent. Tyler with his yellow eyes menacing over her, hissing in her ear all the things she's afraid he'd thought in the years they were together. Matt lying bloodied and broken on a living room floor, crying out for the friends who were countries and lifetimes away. And finally, always, Silas' version of Stefan with that smirk and those dead eyes. She'd been so confused that night, so angry and then so scared as he crossed the room towards her whispering what he wanted. Her mother wasn't supposed to be home. She was just passing through before another shift and had heard the commotion.

_How fortuitous_, not Stefan had chuckled as he held her mother's neck in one hand and pinned Caroline to the wall with the other. He hadn't even been looking at Liz when he snapped her neck. His eyes were locked on Caroline. _This is just the first, make sure she knows that, _he'd said and then the only thing she could hear ringing in her ears was her mother's spine as it cracked at the fault lines.

She jolts awake and finds her face only a few inches away from Damon's. He's gripping both her shoulders and shaking her hard. She puts a hand on his chest and pushes him away. "What," she hisses, out of breath and still reeling from her dreams.

Damon back off, going back to blood bag he'd been focusing on before Elena had demanded he wake Caroline. "You were twitching Care," Elena explains from the driver's seat. Her long hair has been pulled back into a ponytail and the tension seems to have left her body.

"Moaning too," Damon adds, mouth full. He appears to be in a better mood as well. Caroline hopes fleetingly that he and Elena worked out their problems with words and hadn't done anything gross in the front seat while she had been sleeping. "And it didn't look like the fun kind," he smirks at her, and she glares back before climbing into the passenger seat next to Elena in order to get away from him.

"Where are we?" she whispers, squinting out the windshield. Morning has come, and the landscape surrounding them is now perfectly clear. Elena is navigating the car through a winding country road, and the only thing visible for miles are sloping green hills. That's freaking Europe for you Caroline concludes with fondness, it almost reminds her of the fields and forests that surround Mystic Falls.

"Somewhere in the fucking German wilderness," Damon replies, his hands flailing at the scenery as if it were obvious. He finishes the blood bag and tosses it over his shoulder into the rearview window well. Then he stretches out in the vacated back seat and pulls his jacket over his face. It's been nearly two days since he's had any sleep and it's starting to put him even more on edge then usual.

Caroline shrugs off her leather jacket after awhile. Elena glances over at her and notices her T-shirt. The brunette's closest hand reaches without meaning to and she touches a piece of the soft fabric and smiles forlornly. "I have one from the car wash," Elena confides quietly. They'd had less then no time to pack their belongings, not that Elena had much left anyway. The only reason the T-shirt hadn't burned down along with her house was because it had been mixed in with the Salvatore laundry at the time.

Caroline turns in her seat to stare at her best friend. She'd wanted to wait until Damon was asleep to interrogate Elena, who was always more forthcoming when she wasn't being observed by a Salvatore, but now the questions are bubbling up in her throat and she can't help herself. Even control freaks sometimes reach their limit.

"Where are we going?" Caroline asks quietly, trying to make it sound like a genuine question instead of an accusation. She understands that Damon and Elena picked her up for her own safety and she's grateful but there's no way she's letting Damon Salvatore lead her around by the nose ever again. She needs answers, at least about what they're actually going to do to avoid dying and help save Matt, and now is as good a time as any to get them.

"Copenhagen," Elena answers easily enough, but Caroline knows better. Elena's eyes remain straight ahead and her lips purse ever so slightly. She's holding back and it's just so obvious to anyone who knows her.

"Copenhagen?" Caroline repeats, "As in Denmark?"

"The blond knows geography, color me shocked." Damon contributes from the backseat and he can feel Elena shooting him daggers from the rearview mirror even if his eyes aren't open to see it.

"Why are we going to Denmark?" Caroline grits out, her fraying nerves definitely not in the mood for one of Damon's patented dumb blonde jokes, "I thought we were trying to get out of Europe not drive all the way across it?"

"Because Copenhagen has Rebekah," Damon over enunciates and Caroline really is just a second away from turning around and wrapping that jacket around his neck.

"She's reinforcements," Elena adds, glancing at Caroline apologetically, "Which we like desperately need right now. Plus she sounded like she could use some friends-"

"Then she should go make some," Caroline interrupts sharply and Damon snorts despite himself.

"Caroline," Elena reproaches softly, and it's such an Elena thing to do, comfort the bitch who had stolen away one of their best friends in the middle of the night with promises of Chinese gorges and Italian churches. "Fifteen years is a long time," Elena continues, "And Matt obviously saw something redeeming in her, I mean he became a vampire so he could stay with her forever."

"Rebekah has several redeeming qualities," Damon contends with a smirk, "It just happens that none of them have to do with her personality."

"Damon," Elena hisses, her eyes flashing for a split second, "Stop helping."

"Why would Rebekah need us?" Caroline's eyebrows knit together, because it's a legitimate question. It's not like any of them were on the best of terms with her. They tolerated her by necessity, slowly accepted that Matt spoke about her like a fact of life. 'And then Bekah and I went here' or 'Bekah found this great restaurant today' was pretty much all Caroline had heard about her for the past fifteen years. Caroline hadn't know Rebekah was going to turn Matt until it had already happened, and if she had she would have found a way to stop it whether he wanted her to or not.

"Can't she just call one of her brothers and get them to send in the Louisiana Calvary or whatever?" Caroline feels a pang, because she'd used the word 'brothers' deliberately so she could avoid having to say his name and it's giving him much more power over her then he deserves.

"Yeah I get the feeling the Louisiana reunion didn't exactly go swimmingly," Damon replies, and Elena's grip on the wheel tightens almost imperceptibly. There's something they're still not telling her.

She's about to open her mouth to press further when Elena closes the subject, at least momentarily. "Copenhagen is as good a place as anywhere to regroup and come up with a plan Care," she concludes as she starts to pumps the breaks, "Look there's finally a gas station. Lets go buy some trashy magazines."

As they come to a stop at the gas station Elena reaches around to yank Damon's coat off his face. She grins at him falsely and waves one of their credit cards around his eyes, "Tank better be full when we get out, or you'll be recalling Rebekah's redeeming qualities just to get yourself through the lonely nights to come."

It's times like these, when his influence is so blatantly obvious, that he's rendered speechless. And he can only blink and mutter about creating monsters as he snatches the piece of plastic out of her hands.

* * *

It becomes clear to Caroline as they're driving through the streets of Copenhagen that Elena and Damon must already have a tentative plan in place with The She Devil. She recognizes this because they don't have to call Rebekah when they arrive in the city and there seems to already be a set destination that's been discussed without her knowing. It's blatantly obvious they're leaving her out when that destination turns out to be the Copenhagen Airport.

"What the hell," Caroline sputters as the airport comes into view. She turns to her friend again and demands, "Start talking now."

Damon is still sprawled in the backseat, but now much more rested. He's been leafing through one of Caroline's discarded gossip rags absently for the last half hour, every so often looking up to check Elena's navigating. "You knew the plan was to leave the continent," he defends.

"Flee to where?" she glances at him before turning back to Elena. Her friend won't meet her eyes and it confirms Caroline's suspicion that Elena plans to save Jeremy by trying to throw the rest of them under a metaphorical New Orleans streetcar. "Elena, flee to _where_?" she repeats.

"Our destination is still up for debate," Damon replies, and he keeps his eyes on the magazine so he can avoid having to look at Elena.

"Like hell it is," the love of his life replies through gritted teeth. Then she throws the car in park and turns towards Caroline. Elena levels her with a full on desperate stare, reaching across to grip her hands and squeeze, "Caroline, we need to talk to Bonnie. You know we do. And there's only one place where a willing witch will be on hand-"

"That might not be an option Elena," Damon points out.

Elena lets go of Caroline so she can rip the magazine out of Damon's hands and force him to look at her as she repeats for what feels like hundredth time, "Well Jeremy is _definitely_ not an option Damon."

Damon opens his mouth to argue for the hundredth time when the buzzing of Elena's phone distracts him. Their staring contest ends when she blinks and turns away, reaching for where her cell phone rests in the car's cup holder. She touches a button and Rebekah's annoyed voice immediately fills the air. "For God's sake come inside," she commands before ending the call with a click.

Elena sighs, pulling the phone away from her ear and staring down at it for a split second like it might hold an option C, because neither option A: dragging her brother into danger yet again nor option B: asking the guy that attempted to murder her a few times for help feel all that appealing. When her iPhone refuses to reveal the secrets of the universe she glances up at Caroline pleadingly. She doesn't want to do this either, but if it means keeping what little family she has left safe she'll do anything and everything it takes.

Caroline considers her for a split second before groaning and pushing open the passenger door. Of course they're protecting Jeremy regardless of whether their only other option is to make a deal with the devil. As if she'd ever take Damon's side in an argument anyway.

They grab their bags out of the trunk silently, because Elena and Damon are once again too pissed at each other for words. They abandon the car in the parking lot and cross the street to the airport, walking through the sliding doors of the departures section. People bustle around them, most speaking Danish. In the past fifteen years Caroline's become fluent in French and Italian and learned how to order alcohol in German. She can't make heads or tails of Danish so she hopes either Elena or Damon is ready to carry the team on this leg of the journey.

"Where's Rebekah?" Caroline asks as she and Elena head toward one of the long lines by the ticket counter.

"Not that way," Damon replies from behind them, and when she and Elena turn to look at him he motions them towards the far end of the airport, "We'll be flying private."

Caroline rolls her eyes because why should it surprise her that Rebekah has access to a private plane? For all she knows the Mikaelson family owns a fleet of jets to whisk them off to Paris, Rome, and Tokyo all at the same time. Klaus could be in New Orleans ordering take out from Bordeaux every night. She had always wondered about Elijah's seemingly endless supply of expensive imported suits.

They follow Damon across the room, stopping in front of a large man standing guard at a small door. The moment they pause in front of him the man's phone begins to buzz. He flips it open and once again Rebekah's irritated voice fills Caroline's ear. "Let them in," Rebekah orders, and nodding the man steps aside instantaneously. The man looks dazed, the same look she's seen on countless others and that doesn't surprise Caroline either.

She hears Rebekah before she sees her. As they walk down a narrow hallway the click of high-heeled boots can be made out clearly in the distance. She's pacing the length of the room they're about to walk into and instead of annoying or incensing Caroline it makes her nervous. Rebekah's always been an emotional basket case. Somehow Matt made her mellow out but now the man she loves has been taken from her and she's upset, heartbroken even. They all know from past experience that Rebekah doesn't deal with heartbroken well.

Elena must be having the same thought, or maybe flashing back to being driven off a bridge, because she sucks in a deep and unnecessary breath as they enter the little terminal. From one of the large windows Caroline can see several planes circling around the runway and their own little plane is waiting for them just outside and if there were a chance she would die in a plane crash the size of the thing would scare the crap out of her.

Rebekah is the only person in the room, and just as Caroline predicted she looks wrecked. Her outfit is designer as usual but wrinkled and smelling strongly of ash. Caroline's pretty sure she spots a bloodstain near the hem of Rebekah's blouse. She tries to suppress the suspicion that it's Matt's but can't. Damon had said there had been a lot blood, evidence of struggle. Rebekah is still wearing the same clothes. Her makeup is smeared and faded and she must have been running her hands through her hair a lot because it sticks out at the sides. If she didn't have so many reasons to hold a grudge against the girl Caroline might actually feel bad for her.

Might being the operative term because as soon as Rebekah sees them she stops short and her eyes narrow to slits. She completely ignores Caroline, studying Damon and Elena carefully. "So," she questions, "Where are we taking the plane? Where is your brother Elena?"

To his credit Damon doesn't even glance at Elena, and when she opens her mouth to tell Rebekah exactly what she thinks about her question and finding Jeremy Damon interrupts her to ask, "Have you spoken with Elijah?"

"You said you'd convince her," Rebekah looks between the couple, noticing the way Damon stands slightly in front of the two girls and the dubious way Elena meets her gaze.

This time Damon does look at Elena, a wry smile forming on his lips. Elena ignores him, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her chin slightly, "He tried."

"Valiantly," Damon mutters under his breath and Elena suppresses the urge to pinch him. It'd be pointless because it wouldn't hurt him, but she's pretty sure it would make her feel better. She squares her shoulder instead because they have to at least pretend to be a united front.

Rebekah tilts her head in thought, considering her options for just a second before coming to a decision. A thin, predatory smile spreads across her lips, and the veins begin to turn black under her eyes. "Fine then," she sighs, as if Damon and Elena had just told her the weather forecast. Then a split second Elena is no longer next to Caroline. Rebekah has her across the room, pinned to the wall with Rebekah's hand on her throat, "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."

Caroline's proud that Elena doesn't cower, she doesn't so much as blink as Rebekah holds her life in her thousand year old grip. Damon takes a step forward to intervene but Caroline holds up her hand to stop him. It'd be chivalrous and all until Rebekah threw him through a wall. "I'm on vervein," Elena hisses as Rebekah locks eyes with her. When the blonde doesn't release her Elena meets her gaze and adds resolvedly, her voice almost relieved, "And even if it wasn't, I'd stake myself in the heart before I put Jer and his family in danger."

Rebekah considers Elena for a moment, for the first time recognizing one of the reasons why Matt speaks of her so fondly. There is something brave about her, even if it is nearly suicidal in its determination and there is a part of her that wants to be as admirable as Elena, to see Matt get that look in his eye when he speaks of her. But then she recalls that Elena had held onto her life by her fingernails and had lost a thick swath of her loved ones in the process. She won't allow Matt to be among them, and if that means being un-admirable then so be it. "How noble," Rebekah replies back with a false smile, but releases her. Matt wouldn't forgive killing the girl. She's not a total psychopath after all. She knows boundaries.

Damon crosses the room to Elena as Rebekah stalks away from her. She reaches for him instinctively more then anything else, a fifteen-year habit she can't break even when he acts like a total traitor. It's Caroline that speaks next, turning towards Rebekah she puts her hands on her hips and gives her best withering stare. "Um hello?" she begins, "You better get yourself together because I'm pretty sure Matt's not going to be thrilled about you assaulting one of his very best friends."

It seems whatever Matt found redeeming about Rebekah has vanished in his absence because she only rolls her eyes at Caroline and laughs a little. "And I'll beg for his forgiveness after I do everything within my power to find him alive," she replies, falling onto on of the couches in the middle of the room and pulling a cellphone out of her large leather purse.

"Oh yeah she's a delicate flower who's just in desperate need of a friend," Caroline mutters as Damon and Elena walk back over towards her. She thinks it would do Elena some good to be reminded that there are some people who don't deserve the benefit of the doubt.

Rebekah tilts her face slightly so she can appraise Caroline. She does it as if it's a chore, as if Caroline is unworthy of the effort. Rebekah maintains that she is and she still has no idea why her brother so fixates on such an insignificant thing. There are plenty prettier then Caroline, plenty more intelligent and engaging and not so entrenched in a paragon mentality. However, she does feel there's a poetic justice in Nik obsessing over a girl who just barely gives him the time of day. Isn't it just like a man to fall for the only girl whose pants he can't charm off?

"Considering you're the reason we're in this mess you'd do well to shut your mouth," Rebekah spits out. She is loath to stroke Caroline's ego but unable to explain their current predicament in any other way.

"What are you talking about?" Caroline squints at the other blonde.

"My brother doesn't take well to being told no once, let alone fifteen years in a row," Rebekah explains in the same voice she would use if she were talking to a small child, "You're the reason we parted on poor terms and now the reason why he won't answer my calls."

Rebekah recalls for a split second Elijah refereeing the argument as Nik spewed out threats and she was able to hold her own based solely on defensive instinct. Matt steadfastly protected Caroline and she in turn steadfastly protected him. There was no chance Matt would ever even consider endangering his perky ex girlfriend and it was for that reason Rebekah and her brother quarreled. Nik had wanted to find Caroline from the moment she vanished and he saw Matt as nothing but a means to that end. Rebekah obviously thought differently and had told him so and after a fifteen-year absence she had been ordered out of the house like nothing more then a stranger, and she's probably lucky it had just been that. Nik is usually much more cruel and unusual in his punishments.

Surprisingly it's Damon that defends her, a sarcastic response falling out of his mouth before he can help it. "Yeah she's sorry she didn't get a chance to drop him a change of address card while she was busy running for her life," Caroline glances at him a little bemusedly but he's too busy discovering the bar in the far corner of their private terminal to notice. He pours himself a tall class of scotch as he questions once again, "Did you talk to Elijah or not?"

Caroline's unable to suppress her train of thought though, and must get a few things clarified before they move on, "I never told Matt where I lived."

"He would never have let you," Rebekah clarifies, her heel is tapping against the linoleum floor and her head is resting against the back of one of the couches. Her hands press against her temples tightly because she's had a headache for going on two days now. "He won't even go near Nik," she continues, "He's afraid of getting compelled-"

"Or beheaded," Elena finishes dryly, following Damon towards the bar once again out of habit. He hands her his glass without even looking and she takes a long gulp. She's trying to remember that Matt loves Rebekah, and that they have all gone a little crazy trying to protect the people they love. She'll make sure to remind her neck of that once she regains feeling.

"Nik's passionate about puzzling things," Rebekah concludes and when Caroline makes a noise in the back of her throat she has to remind herself that these people are very important to the man she loves. The man she left for the first time in fifteen years to visit the brothers who still speak to her like she is a child. He'd driven her to the airport and the whole ride she'd begged him to come because for some reason she continues to idolize Niklaus and didn't think he'd do anything to hurt her now. Matt had smiled and kissed her goodbye and they'd talked on the phone every night she was gone. When she'd come home two days earlier thanks to Nik's little tantrum she'd expected to spend the rest of the day in bed, instead she'd ruined a pair of boots by stepping into a pool of her lover's blood.

She had to get him back. The thought clawed at her throat and crawled around in her stomach, making her frantic. She had to find him because she could no longer imagine her life without him. She'd always wanted a forever kind of love. She'd tripped over herself trying to find it and Matt had been no different. The difference was he'd fallen for her too, slowly and with great caution but fell for her all the same. He'd given up his humanity, at least in the physical sense, to be with her and she will do anything to make sure they get their forever.

"Rebekah we all want the same thing," Elena sighs, leaning against the bar. She will be consolatory, she will be remorseful, she will protect Jeremy with her life but she will also do everything else in her power to find Matt, including placating his crazy girlfriend she's never liked, "Maybe Klaus is upset with you but I doubt Elijah wishes you eternal unhappiness just because you wouldn't give up Caroline."

"How you think I got the jet?" Rebekah wonders aloud. Her first call after finding Matt missing had been to Elijah. She'd been nearly incomprehensible but his calm had eventually infected her. She was still shaking as they spoke but she'd been able to form actual sentences. He hadn't seen or heard from Nik since Rebekah's departure but he believed he was holed up in his bar on Bourbon St. Elijah promised to do everything in his power to help her but Rebekah wasn't the child he thought she was. She knew that the witches in New Orleans feared Elijah but they followed Nik. They wouldn't do anything without their King's say so.

She'd had to think then, after she hung up with him. She'd paced around their little house with their pictures and one of Matt's sweatshirts thrown across an armchair and she'd planned. It would be easiest to avoid her brother and his influence all together, although she was loath to put her fate and Matt's in Elena Gilbert's inept hands. She'd hoped she could intimidate or Damon could sweet talk Elena into using Jeremy as their conduit to Bonnie Bennett. She knew he would be much more malleable then her own brother.

Now it was obvious she was going to have employ her back up plan. She had been nearly certain Damon and Elena would bring Caroline along with them or ensure she made it to their eventual destination. She's relieved to have the girl in front of her now so she can be sure. Her brother is certain to be more amenable if she brings his fixation along with her.

"Elijah will help me," Rebekah continues, and she ceases rubbing her temples so she can look at Caroline, "Nik will take some convincing, and not from me."

Caroline stares back at Rebekah blankly, the words 'little blond distraction' ringing in her ears. Fifteen years later and she's still going to be providing to the team effort by flashing a smile and wearing a low cut top. It's a dangerous game she plays and one he's long caught onto. At least now she'll be persuading as opposed to trying to create a smoke screen around a death plot.

If Rebekah's to be believed then Klaus is upset with her, or at least upset that she'd disappeared without a trail. He'd seemed content enough to let go the last time she'd seen him but she supposes he thought she'd be sticking to her small town or a college where he could keep tabs on her. It probably didn't help matters that when she'd vanished it had been with Tyler.

She must have hesitated a second too long because Elena interrupts her deliberation. "Caroline," Elena pleads, "Everything we're doing is for Matt. _Please-"_

"I'm coming," Caroline interrupts, shaking her head to get rid of her thoughts. This has nothing to do with her and her messy emotions. This is about Matt and doing absolutely everything they can do to get him back. If that means stepping back onto a slippery slope with the devil incarnate then she'll do it with the grace she always has, "God Elena obviously I'm coming."

"Wonderful," Rebekah nods, mostly to herself as she shoot out of her seated position, "I must speak to the pilot, gather your things we'll be taking off as soon as possible." Then she disappears into the tunnel that leads to the private plane as quick as a blur.

"A little bit pot bitching at the kettle don't you think?" Damon mutters under his breath, ignoring the glare Elena shoots him in favor of studying his drink. Caroline's a little taken off guard, is that the second time he's defended her in like the span of three minutes?

"We'll be safer in New Orleans anyway," Elena argues and she feels it's at least a bit true. Klaus allegedly has the whole city under his thumb. It might be the most obvious destination but at least they'll be hidden in what she assumes will be some sort of fortress.

"Oh yeah the closer I get to Klaus the safer I feel," Damon quips, and it makes Caroline smile from across the room.

Elena turns to face him from the other side of the bar. She sighs at him and forces him to take into account how tired and stressed and scared she is. Does he think she wants to put her best friend in this position? To put any of them in this position? "If it were your brother-" she starts.

He reaches across the bar to put his hands on her shoulders, giving her the best smile he can manage under the circumstances, "I get it Elena. The Big Easy it is okay?"

"Easy for you two maybe," Caroline replies as she grabs her bag and heads towards the plane. She will not be nervous. She will not feel anticipation. She will not feel anything.

Behind her she hears Damon press a few buttons on his phone, "Stefan, yeah you'll never guess where we're headed…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The plane ride is by far the most awkward experience of Caroline's life. They sit in the far back of the small private jet and only the top of Rebekah's head is visible from the very front. The thing isn't as fancy as Caroline predicted. There is no entertainment center or a disco ball that pops out of the ceiling. The seats are supple black leather and the paneling and floor gleam with polish but other then that it's just a smaller scale of every other plane she's been on.

Elena and Damon share a seat and Caroline sits next to them, legs crossed at the knee and trying very hard not to find them obnoxious. She used to be like them, was like them for a very long time actually. She can unfortunately remember very clearly how a person becomes like an extra appendage, so necessary until the day they decide to disappear.

The couple is reclined at a forty-five degree angle while Caroline sits up rigid and almost perfectly vertical. Damon is sprawled and lazy and Elena's back is pressed against the shuttered plane window with her legs curled into her chest. Her head rests on his shoulder and his eyes keep closing despite himself. The girls talk low and constant and he can feel Elena's jaw moving against his forehead.

He will never get used to this part, the mundaneness of it, how he now takes for granted something he once thought he would only ever get to fantasize about. He'd lived a lifetime without someone to fall asleep next to, a hand to hold, or a person to discuss whatever happened to be on his mind. It still sometimes shocks him how natural it feels with her. The way she just reaches for him or falls against him or stays even when he's pissing her off and being so blunt it's bordering on dick territory. These little realizations are the most spectacular thing about being with Elena, although he's sure he could never tell her so in the right way. Her finger start to run through the hair at the back of his neck and he's done for, he falls asleep without even realizing.

Caroline and Elena try to use the ride to catch up. Elena spends the first couple of hours telling Caroline about her life. She and Damon have apparently spent the brunt of their fifteen years together in South America and Elena promises she has several pictures of Damon in brightly colored swim trunks sipping equally brightly colored beverages. They'd only recently made it to Europe, and were eating dinner at a café in Bordeaux when Rebekah had alerted them to Matt's disappearance.

The brunette gets starry eyed as she speaks about waterfalls and birds of paradise and how insignificant she felt as she walked through a rainforest for the first time. They had spent time on the Galapagos Islands and a few years doing nothing but climbing mountains and Caroline can't help but wonder what Damon and Elena look like as a couple when there isn't doom and gloom hovering over them.

In the wake of Elena's romantic and sweet stories Caroline's not exactly sure where to start when she recounts her own experiences in their time apart. Naturally it's not anywhere close to the romantic movie montage Elena's been living in. The day they decided to separate and run was the day after her mother had died and she'd spent the next year clinging to her humanity if only for Stefan's sake. He'd been with her for quite awhile as she'd searched for Tyler, because though Klaus had freed him from the threat of imminent death he hadn't exactly taken the time to track her wayward boyfriend down and let him know.

Six months at the bottom of a lake had all but destroyed Stefan's self control and he'd come out in full ripper mode. Damon had wanted to drag his brother along with him and Elena until Caroline had pointed out that she was the only one of the three of them who was any good at the Stefan method of feeding. She had also doubted that having to witness Damon and Elena falling even more in love would do much to get Stefan back to the sane side of the emotional spectrum. Plus, she didn't need to add, she could use the company even if it meant cleaning up dead bodies.

So she'd spent the next two and a half years of hiding on the West Coast trying to talk Stefan out of murdering tourists. Tyler was actually the one who found her just a few months after she'd finally turned Stefan back on to wildlife. He'd gotten in touch with Matt who gave him a rough estimate of Caroline's location since at the time she was between cellphones. Tyler had tracked her down to the bar she was working at in Santa Cruz and when he'd wrapped his arms around her and told her exactly how much he'd missed her she couldn't help feeling like she was going to get her fairytale ending. Like those even existed for people like her.

Stefan, wary of once again being the odd man out in a love story, had wandered off a little later and she'd let him. It was total friend betrayal because he had only been on the wagon for all of five seconds but she finally had Tyler back and felt for the first time since her mom had died that she could breath. Stefan had recognized that and he hadn't begrudged her the feeling even a little bit. He'd kissed her on the forehead, told her he'd never be able to thank her enough, and she hadn't seen him in person since. It had been a mistake to trade running around with her best friend for settling down with her boyfriend, but one she couldn't admit out loud even now.

She had been sure in the beginning that Tyler and her were forever. They had been through so much, loved each other even when they were thousands of miles apart, and somehow this was supposed to mean that they always would. They had gone to England and been happy for the first four years, fragile for the next two, and miserably unhappy for the last six months. Tyler had wanted to settle down. He wanted to stop running and put down roots and make friends for a few years. He wanted to live the way they had grown up, as apart of a community. Tyler liked to feel stable. He liked knowing exactly where he stood in the world. Caroline had tried, truly she felt like she had done everything she could to give him the life he wanted.

She had been miserable for him, watching years go by stuck in the same place in the same boring job. They sat outside on the front porch every night drinking beer and looking out at the stars and she would ask herself every time how something she'd used to think was so appealing could now bore her to tears. Had she not fantasized about a life like this? With a boy who loved her and wanted to spend his life living with her in a sweet, perfect small town? Wasn't this what she always feared she would never get to have?

Unfortunately for she and Tyler something had awoken in Caroline that refused to quiet. She was restless in a way she never had been before. She tried to assume past roles, to take up leadership positions and head committees, but she felt like she was living through déjà vu. She wasn't working towards any real goals or accomplishments. She was endlessly jogging in place picturing all the more exciting things she could be doing and all the places she could be seeing.

Her relationship had culminated in an ultimatum. Tyler wanted to keep standing still and she resented having to slow down for him. 'I like it here Care,' he'd said with a shrug, as if that settled everything. She'd told him she'd be in Paris if he wanted to come find her. He never had.

She'd tried not to hear his voice that first night in a strange hotel in a strange place. _It won't be enough for you. _She'd stood on a balcony in the center of a city she'd long fantasized about, a city he'd promised to take her to, and pretended he hadn't seen right through her a decade ago at her stupid high school dance. Who wouldn't want to spend a long life seeing everything they possibly could? She'd watched people surge around beneath her and sipped a glass of expensive champagne and tried to be sad and miss Tyler and their little house and little life. Instead she'd smiled into the back of her hand until the sun rose on the next and newest morning of her fresh start.

For the last five years she'd contented herself with exploring every inch of France and Italy. She'd settled down in only a few cities and made friends in none. It was only recently that she'd begun to grow lonely, to slow down enough to realize that she was spending far too many of her nights alone. Now as she stares at Elena she realizes gallivanting across continents is probably much more fun with a partner. After this is all over she'll have to beg Stefan's forgiveness and see if he'd ever made it to Portland. Maybe since neither of them can seem to make a relationship work they can be eternal vampire spinsters together.

Elena yawns, her eyes have grown heavy in the space of Caroline's pause, but ever the martyr she presses, "Come on Care, tell me an adventure."

Caroline smiles at her best friend, placating and soft. She tries to force herself to stop noticing the way Elena's hand is still keeping time at the back of Damon's neck or the way he will every so often shift in sleep, always pulling her just a millimeter closer. She'd fooled herself into thinking that she would never be jealous of Elena again, but even as she's cuddling with the spawn of Satan her best friend manages to come out the winner. Caroline may be liberated, she may not regret giving up Tyler, but that doesn't mean she's not sometimes so lonely she aches. "It's okay Elena," she reaches out to squeeze her best friend's free hand, "we should get sleep while we still can. You know once we touch down it's going to be all death and destruction. These are the originals we're asking for help." Caroline raises her eyebrows conspiratorially.

Elena flinches but her eyes drift shut gratefully and Caroline pretends to try and rest as well, at least until she's sure Elena has successfully dozed off. She's too fidgety and in her own head to get to sleep she knows, but her friend shouldn't have to suffer because she's having an existential crisis in the middle of their Silas crisis. She kills another few hours leafing through magazines and a worn paperback Damon had had in his back pocket but she finds she can't sit still. Not with world's most unlikely couple using each other for blankets right next to her.

Rebekah doesn't look at her when she takes a seat across the aisle. She is picking the nail polish off her fingernails and keeps wincing. Now that she no longer has the outlet of pacing and spitting venom the original sister looks even more vulnerable. If they were strangers Caroline would never be able to tell that this girl had lived through centuries, had her heartbroken a hundred times. She nearly looks human.

"If you've come to comfort me you can save your breath," Rebekah suddenly looks up, her lovely blue eyes empty despite the obvious turmoil inside her head, "And you should know that if Matt dies I intend to take my pain out on you and your friends." Ah, there's the bitch she loves to loath.

Caroline opens her mouth to snap something awful back but then stops herself. Lashing out in fear and insecurity used to be her go to method of coping, and this is just the vampire version of that. So instead of getting down and dirty she decides to earn herself some karma points and swerve onto the high road. "Rebekah we're going to find him," she keeps her voice soft and even, the same tone she'd used to lull Elena to sleep, "Silas doesn't care about Matt. He just needs him to get to Bonnie."

"How comforting," Rebekah snorts, and she throws her fidgeting hands up in the air. When she tries to return them to her lap she can't bare it. Her head is ringing because she can't stop seeing these images. She had lived with Nik for centuries, seen how he treated his enemies, how he hurt them. She knows a thousand ways a person can be tortured, how much pain can be inflicted before there is a break with reality, before they are never the same. How many hours could Matt endure before he never looked at her as open and lovingly as he used to? Before he flinched away from her or shuddered in his sleep? Before he knew a fear or a pain that could never be healed? She presses her fingers against her forehead and tries once again to make herself stop, but unfortunately it is speaking to Caroline that seems to offer the only distraction. "I wonder did that explanation help you through the death of your mother?" Rebekah asks before she can help herself. It's a family trait to go straight for the throat.

Again Caroline swallows her response, making a mental note to regale Matt with tales of her restraint as soon as they find him. She takes a calming breath, trying to remember the technique from all those hot yoga classes she'd taken to whittle away time in her and Tyler's little English town, before replying, "My friends helped me through my mother's death. They saved me just like we'll save Matt."

Rebekah snorts again, because she knows the story, has heard it enough times that even she'd admit Caroline Forbes is selling herself short with that explanation. Hadn't it been Caroline that had to convince Elena and Damon that the Stefan that had sullenly been drifting in and out of their lives for six months was an imposter while her mother's body grew cold on her bedroom floor? And it had been Caroline and Jeremy that had gotten through to Bonnie and located Stefan's desecrated body while the golden couple was still playing catch up and Damon stubbornly refused to admit he could be fooled. The three of them had recovered him together but it was laughably Caroline who got stuck with him, who had to skip town before her mother's funeral in order to keep track of him and keep him safe.

Rebekah's about to reply with a witty comment, something about doormats, when Caroline adds placidly, "We're a family Rebekah. We're all each other have anymore and Matt made you one of us. I know you don't have the best track record with family loyalty but we don't turn our backs, even when bodily harm is threatened." Caroline smiles perkily then and finishes with a joke, "And I've picked up a few tricks over the years. I might not be as easy to brutally murder as you'd think."

God Matt owes her, she'd managed to say it all without making a gagging noise. She guesses it's mostly true. Matt _had_ made Rebekah special by loving her. Their relationship was a riddle wrapped in a mystery topped with an enigma shaped bow and Caroline would probably never get to the bottom of it, but it was clear Rebekah was passionate about Matt, that she would do anything to get him back. That worked in Caroline's favor and she would begrudgingly offer a space in the fold if it meant a higher likelihood of finding her friend. She doesn't trust the bitchy blonde, not for a second, but Rebekah doesn't have to know that.

Rebekah doesn't soften at Caroline's platitude. She remembers all too well Elena Gilbert slipping a dagger between her ribs after trying to make nice. Instead she raises her eyebrows at the idea an infant would stand a chance against her. "The murdering part wouldn't be difficult at all, but I must admit you do quite a good vanishing act," Rebekah relents. She surprises herself with the tone of genuine admiration as she continues, "Very few are able to elude Nik when he truly wishes to find them. It would seem you and your maker do have one thing in common."

"I didn't get any tips from Katherine on how to make myself scarce," her nose wrinkles at the idea of sharing secrets with Katherine Pierce. She wouldn't ask Katherine for a glass of water if she were on fire. It had been her mother who taught her to run, back when the Council was the biggest thing she had to worry about. For a time while they were hiding Stefan had been the blonde and she'd been the brunette. What an adjustment that had been. Tyler had barely recognized her when he found them. She'd only gone back to her natural hair color a few years ago. Blondes always stood out in a crowd.

"Glad to hear it," Bekah smirks, for the first time putting an effort into making eye contact. Their mutual loathing for Elena's doppelganger is one thing they do have in common.

"How did you and Matt get caught?" Caroline whispers, knowing it's the wrong question, knowing that will put Rebekah right back into a murderous frame of mind. It's been bothering her since she found out though. Out of all of them she had thought Matt would be the safest. Rebekah had spent nearly all of her undead life fleeing from Mikael. She had to know how to keep herself safe. Now she realizes she might be giving Rebekah too much credit, after all she had been with Klaus all those years. He had probably been doing the heavy lifting on the whole protecting and fleeing front.

Rebekah confirms her suspicion when she flinches and looks away, eyes darkening as she takes the question for an accusation, "It's exactly what you want to hear, my fault of course. I was arrogant and sentimental and I should never have gone to my brothers. He must have been waiting for it, everyone knows where Nik is of course, and he must have traced me back to Denmark and found us." Rebekah glances at Caroline but looks away just as quickly, clenching her jaw and waiting for the berating to start.

"If I still had my mother I would have gone to her by now," Caroline whispers quietly, looking down at her lap, "No matter where she was, no matter if I knew he would find me."

"Then I suppose we're both fools," Rebekah sighs before adding resolutely, "But my stupidity should be mine to pay for, not his."

"That we can agree on," Caroline nods, because commiserating aside she now had confirmation on what she had already suspected. Rebekah had fucked up and she was the reason Matt was gone. Maybe it was inevitable, maybe one of them would have been found eventually, but Rebekah had put Matt in harms way to go see men who had left her daggered in a box for almost a hundred years.

The silence between them drags and grows uncomfortable, but Caroline doesn't move to go back to her seat. She has questions. "Can you…" she pauses, trying to phrase it correctly, "I mean I saw him everyday for nearly all my life and now I barely know anything about him." This times Rebekah turns her whole body in her seat. This she can talk about. Maybe remembering Matt happy will help her stop thinking about what Matt is feeling right this second. Caroline looks up at Rebekah through her lashes, "Did he like it? I mean being a vampire."

Rebekah chews on her lower lip as she thinks about her response. That had been a decade long argument, one that she'd won by being exactly what her brothers had always criticized her for: a person who was driven by pure emotion. "He didn't take to it at first no," Rebekah answers honestly, "I anticipated he would have trouble with the thrist though, with the idea of feeding off of people. We'd come up with a plan before he was turned…"

Caroline relaxes into her seat as Rebekah continues. This is a safe topic and one that she is genuinely interested in. Rebekah can talk about Matt for hours and she will listen the whole time. Yet another string of stories where a boy she dated ended up being happier with someone else. Why wouldn't she want to hear every last detail?

* * *

As soon as they touch down men come aboard the plane. Damon startles awake and he's standing in the aisle between the intruders and Elena before she's even realized it's not a dream. Caroline and Rebekah are still talking about Matt, stories of him being the only common ground they have. Caroline knows better then to tell Rebekah any details about her life. She doesn't want them used against her when this is all over. Thankfully Rebekah takes the hint. She's getting sick of being used as a pawn in her brother's chess match against the world anyway. It still brings her nothing but misery.

Rebekah glances over at her brother's henchmen, rolling her eyes at Damon Salvatore's macho display. "Where's Elijah?" she questions demurely, and Damon relaxes ever so slightly when the men barely glance at him, their focus solely on grabbing the luggage stacked at the back of the plane.

"Waiting in the car," the man replies as he grabs Elena's rollaway bag and throws it over his shoulder. She watches it go, wondering if she'll ever see it again as she reaches out to grab a handful of the back of Damon's shirt. It's her way of telling him to play nice without baiting him by saying it aloud. If he lunges at someone he'll be taking her with him.

Rebekah stands, smoothing out her ruined blouse and glancing at her three guests as she begins to saunter down the aisle toward the plane's exit. "Come," she commands as she ducks and steps out of the doorway.

At opposite ends of the plane Damon and Caroline lock eyes. Elena is still sitting, unable to stand up comfortably without forcing Damon to move, which she can't exactly accomplish without his consent. Her mother had always warned her not to get involve with older, more experienced men. Although even at her most imaginative Elena doubts her mother could have seen her boyfriend coming. Damon kinks an eyebrow at Caroline. He knew this was a mistake, ten seconds in and they're already surrounded by Klaus' goons. Caroline shrugs back. This wouldn't have been her first choice either, but they have no other viable options.

She moves first, following Rebekah's path to the plane's door. "Stronger together, right?" she repeats his words before stepping out the door and into the setting sun.

Damon turns his head, first looking at the small hand fisted in his T-shirt and then at the woman attached to it. Elena grins at him wryly, her long hair a little bit disheveled from sleep and her eyes teasing, "You said that?"

He rolls his eyes and steps forward, pulling her up. As soon as she's standing he laces their fingers together as he muses, "I pictured our first time in New Orleans differently. A lot more liquor and a lot less Mikaelson."

She leans up to press a kiss to his lips, their argument is over. They've picked a path and they're a team again. "There'll be time to drink after we've found Matt," she whispers back to him, and then she yanks him towards the door. He doesn't let her lead for long. He doesn't actually intend to let her out of his sight this entire trip, but that's a conversation for a different time.

They landed at a private airstrip so the only people on the tarmac are them and Klaus' men who have just finished loading the bags into a large, nondescript van. Caroline and Rebekah stand shoulder to shoulder in front of a stretch limo idling by the nose of the plane. Elijah emerges just as Elena and Damon catch up with them. Elena smiles at the sight of him, "It's nice to see you again Elijah."

"And you Elena," he grins at her despite the circumstances. The last time they'd spoken she'd been soulless. Now she's coming out of hiding and crossing the country to find her friend, "I see you were restored to yourself."

Damon's eyebrows raise, "It really has been a long time."

Elena's smile falters, remembering the way she'd acted during their last encounter. Fifteen years ago she'd kissed him and laughed in his face when he spoke of compassion, "About that-"

"A conversation for another time, don't you think?" Rebekah interrupts. Of course Elijah's greeting Elena before coming to comfort her. She's only his sister after all. "Elijah have you gotten ahold of Nik?"

Elijah's brow furrows and he shakes his head, "Niklaus is throwing his usual tantrum. He hasn't been back to the house since he stormed out of it two days ago." Elijah crosses his arms over his chest and for the first time he looks at Caroline, "It's a pleasure to officially meet you Miss Forbes."

If she were a functioning human Caroline would be blushing, but she's nothing if not cool under pressure so she holds out her hand for him to shake and smiles primly, "You can call me Caroline."

He looks down at her outstretched arm amusedly before shaking her hand, "Then you shall call me Elijah." Damon snorts at the display and Rebekah's jaw tightens but Elijah ignores them in favor of assessing Caroline. They'd never been formally introduced but he'd seen her in passing when he visited Mystic Falls. Unfortunately he hadn't realized her significance until he and his brother had already settled in Louisiana.

She isn't at all what he imagined. She doesn't simper or purr. She doesn't stare at him from under her eyelashes or jut out her hip. She stands perfectly straight and looks him right in the eye as she shakes his hand. She smiles charmingly, not cloyingly. The girl might actually be genuine, which he and Nik have always had trouble finding in women. Genuine girls tend to be smart enough to steer clear of the original family.

"I'm assuming you're to be the one to speak to Niklaus?" he asks as he releases her hand but still does not look away. Caroline swallows but her smile doesn't falter. Brave, too. It seems Nik's tastes have improved exponentially.

"Spare us you're moral qualms Elijah. She's volunteered," Bekah snaps. How much time does he plan to waste sizing up Nik's obsession? And couldn't it be done in the car?

Elijah raises his eyebrows at Caroline and she's quick to agree with his sister, "We can't let Matt die. We need your help," she sucks in a deep breath and glances away as she adds under her breath, "His help." Not as indifferent as she would like to appear. His brother seems to have gotten under her skin as well, or maybe he's just seeing what he wants to, what he'd like to hope.

"And what makes you so confident you can obtain it?" he studies her intently again. What is it about her? What will she have to offer him in return?

Caroline opens her mouth to explain, but find she can't. Rebekah seemed confident she would be able to bring him around, but why was she herself so certain? Because even now as she stares into Elijah's skeptical eyes she knows Klaus will help them. Maybe he won't make it easy but he'll do it.

Thankfully Damon supplies her answer. "Experience," he sums up with a shrug, "And if you'd just bring us to Klaus already you'd get to see Blondie work her magic first hand."

There is a beat of silence where Elijah continues to hold Caroline with his gaze. She is a pretty thing, even in just jeans and a T-shirt, a leather jacket gripped in her free hand. Unruly blond curls frame her face and her blue eyes shine clear in the waning sunlight. She really isn't at all what he expected. Rebekah breaks the silence. "Please Elijah," she murmurs.

Elijah blinks and then he holds his arm out for Caroline to grasp, "Miss Forbes, may I trouble you with a few more questions during the ride?"

She reaches forward to take his arm, polite to a fault. She wishes she could respond to his frilly, overly polite question with an impressive response but instead she murmurs, "Sure." She lets him lead her to the limo and she ducks inside after him.

Fifteen minutes later Caroline is looking out the window at the bar Klaus' apparently owns. _Hair of the Dog_. Isn't he so fucking clever?

**I really wanted to have the reunion in this chapter but I got so distracted with backstory. So sorry and I promise to have the next update up super soon to make up for it. Review and tell me what you think. Not that boring right? Please say right!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It's only dusk but a line's already beginning to trail out the front of the bar. Music and chatter overwhelm Caroline now that she no longer has the distraction of Elijah's voice in her ear. Bourbon St. seems to already be in full swing party mode. Maybe she'll grab a drink before locating Klaus. She could use a little pleasure with her business.

She's lucky they've arrived because Elijah hasn't stopped prodding her about her current whereabouts since they began their journey. He was polite enough to accept her answer of Europe when he asked where she's living but she also has the uneasy feeling he isn't planning on letting it go. It's a game she's used to playing, but not with Elijah as a partner. He's much more calculating then Klaus or, she guesses, she finds him that way because he doesn't seem to find her all that charming or interesting.

He studies her. He listens to her not because of who she is but what she means. He wants to understand her merit and she's positive she's done nothing to sway him towards her. She's basically sputtered and avoided and tried to be polite while giving him no personal details about her life. Rebekah seemed to find the game amusing now that they were progressing in the limo and Damon and Elena tried to chime in and offer distractions wherever they could but Elijah seems to be on a mission.

She doesn't know why Elena finds him so charming. He's disconcerting and his desire to pin her down is far from noble. She never thought she would think about Klaus and his mood swings with nostalgia. At least he's upfront with his emotions. If he wants something he demands it, he doesn't beat around the bush or talk her in circles waiting for her to trip over her own words. It isn't until she's up against Elijah that she genuinely misses Klaus.

She eagerly reaches for the door handle but then finds herself hesitating. She wants to be rid of this more then uncomfortable situation but she's suddenly unsure of herself. It had all be so simple in the abstract. She would speak to him and Matt would be saved. She felt stupid now for thinking it would be that easy. There was always a price with him, always a deal to be struck. He didn't do love or emotional appeals. They couldn't all just tromp into his office and beg. Rebekah's tears would do nothing to sway him, they would just give him more ammunition, more reason to turn his back. Punishing the sister who'd decided love was more important then a kingdom would probably seem like a good idea in his present state of mind. Letting the vampire who'd disrespected him and the doppelganger who'd slipped out of his fingers squirm would be an appealing prospect as well.

It is with these conclusions on her mind that she turns back to the little group. All eyes on her when she decides, "I should go alone."

"Not happening," Elena and Damon speak almost in unison. Elena actually lunges across the seat to grab a handful of Caroline's T-shirt. Jeez she's gotten a little more aggressive hasn't she?

"You must be joking," Rebekah sniffs at the same time. Who is this infant to tell her to wait in the car? This is her family after all, whether or not Nik wants to act brotherly.

It is only Elijah who waits to see what she will say next, this clever girl with impeccable manners and secrets in her eyes. She wants to speak to his brother alone and no one ever wants to do that. Caroline chooses her words carefully and says them to Rebekah, who is the one that most needs to be persuaded, "If we all go in it's going to look like-"

Elijah finishes her sentence with a small smile and a raised eyebrow, "A manipulation?"

Caroline sighs and begins to try and peel Elena's fingers off of her shirt. Rebekah has deflated, falling back against the car seat. She turns to Elijah, keeping her beauty queen face in place. Smile even when you're so anxious you want to tear someone's hair out. She'd taught it to herself.

"I was going to say ambush," she corrects and then she tilts her head at Elijah. He can't really think his brother's that stupid. That she'd ever been able to trick him into something. Maybe keep him distracted for a few opportune hours, but Klaus didn't do anything he didn't absolutely want to. "He'll know it's a manipulation as soon as I ask him. After all this time you really think I could manipulate your brother without him realizing?" she finished with a question, and now it's her turn to study him.

He's inscrutable and steady. It seems an intent, unblinking stare is something he and Klaus have in common. He too chooses his words carefully, "It seems to me that your very presence is a manipulation Miss Forbes. Would you be here if you did not want something in return?"

"I asked her to be here Elijah," Rebekah's voice cuts through the silence of the limo. She is quiet and pleading, a sister appealing to her beloved brother. After a beat she adds, "I would have begged her."

Caroline doesn't look at her, doesn't break from Elijah and the challenge he has given her. She will not feel bad. She may be in a moral gray area when it comes to the part she's played in their fight against Klaus but never has she been totally in the wrong. She protects the people she loves and she'll never apologize for that. Not when there are so few of them left.

She decides to level with Elijah. "Listen I'm not stupid enough to ask you to trust me, but would you look at me and tell me what threat I could possibly pose to your indestructible brother? You're right I _am_ here because I need something but it isn't nefarious or immoral. I need to save my friend Matt, and to do that I need a witch so I can talk to my other friend Bonnie and she can tell me what to do." She says all of that roughly, so at the end she attempts to appease by reminding, "And it's Caroline."

Elijah mulls it over before questioning, "Do you love Matt as Rebekah does?"

Rebekah's mouth drops open but Caroline doesn't flinch when she replies honestly, "I used to." She blinks, "It's even more now, but not that way."

"And Niklaus? Do you love him?" Elijah doesn't allow inflection into his voice, he asks her this as if he is asking her favorite color.

"No," Caroline shakes her head, "But he knows that."

"You believe he loves you?"

She hesitates. "He used to," she decides.

Elijah hesitates, and finds he still wishes to interrogate the young girl. Time is fleeting though, and he knows his sister doesn't have the patience to allow this much longer. "I fear you pose a greater threat then you are able to recognize Caroline, but only time will tell." He pauses for a moment and then turns to look at his sister, "I wish you luck. Rebekah and I will return home. The three of you can appeal to him so he doesn't feel quite so…ambushed."

"Thank you Elijah," Elena's voice is muffled as she's immediately begun to pull Damon through the limo door. He'd managed to avoid putting his foot in his mouth through Elijah and Caroline's exchange but she's not going to chance it even one second more.

"You're welcome Elena," he murmurs bemusedly. The willful blonde is still staring at him. She's confused and agitated and for a moment he thinks she will ask him to clarify his statement.

But Caroline is nothing if not gracious. "Thank you Elijah," she parrots and then she too blurs out the limo door.

Rebekah glares at him in the newly empty space. "It should be me going with her," his baby sister pouts.

"So you can make demands?" Elijah asks without malice, "She plans to appease him, let him believe the whole thing is his idea. The lady is much smarter then you let on."

"Caroline Forbes is no lady," Rebekah sniffs pettily, relieved to find an outlet for her annoyance. What is with her brothers and the sluts of Mystic Falls? "And she better be as effective as you fear she will be. Manipulation, ambushing, deals I could bloody well care less how she does it. It's high time Nik got a taste of his own medicine anyway."

Elijah glances out the window as the limo pulls away. Caroline stands on the curb with her arms across her chest. The crowd weaves around her and she watches the drunkards and the prostitutes with the wide eyes of a woman who has seen the very worst but can still be shocked, an angel willing stepping into the depths of hell. He blanches at the clichéd sentiment but cannot deny its applicability. It seems this is the night for surprises.

"Only time will tell," Elijah repeats as the car surges forward and the girl disappears from his sight.

* * *

"This is a really shitty plan," Damon decides immediately, he's got a finger in one of Elena's belt loops and is using it to hold her under his arm. No way is he letting her go anywhere near the bar before they absolutely have to. He's let himself get talked down the rabbit hole on this one. He'd have said anything to get Elena to stop bawling but he shouldn't have agreed to this. Walking into Klaus' bar without any original reinforcement. Stefan wouldn't be here for a few more hours so all their hopes and possibly lives were riding on the abilities of Barbie Vamp. He's ten seconds away from dragging Elena back to airport and holding her down until she gave up Jeremy's location.

"Wait outside then," Caroline shrugs. New Orleans really is the place her mother warned her about. For every normal person there are two drunken guys or women in booty shorts and bikini tops clutching test tubes of neon liquor. Strippers walk out of darkly lit buildings and try to entice people to return with them. Across the street a man is being lowered down in a doctor's chair as two women pour vodka in his open mouth. A den of sin, she smirks, of course he'd found himself a spot right in the middle.

"No," Elena shakes her head, and Caroline's surprised to see she's nearly unfazed by their surroundings. She supposes while Tyler was trying to get her to play house Damon was giving Elena an education in debauchery. There's the flare of jealousy again. She has to give her subconscious a talking to. She knows the most sinister parts of Damon's wild streak after all. Coming down from it kills. "Caroline you're not going in there alone," Elena adds determinedly.

Caroline glances towards _Hair of the Dog_. It's a hole in the wall sure, but she's seen worse. Neon signs and faded red doors framed on either side by large windows. The room is narrow but long, with a bar stretching all the way across the far wall. Dimly lit and packed with a people it looks like every other place on the block. "It's just a bar Elena," Caroline replies nonchalantly. Where would he be? Elijah seemed to think he was brooding and she doubted he would be doing that in public.

"And hell is just a sauna," Damon blanches, but then shrugs, "I've got no problem with you being the bait in this situation-" At least then he'll be able to throw Elena behind something if there's carnage.

Caroline smiles bitterly as she continues to survey the bar. It's Elena that interrupts him, silencing him with a well-placed elbow to the ribs, "But we'll be there for back up."

"Yeah we'll provide a five second distraction as he sticks his hands through our chests and then continues on with his night," Damon adds wryly.

"He's got no reason to hurt us," Elena points out from her spot beside him. She wonders if this little debate is going to turn into a full-blown argument on the streets of New Orleans. She's got no problem handing him his own ass over Caroline. Her friend is putting herself in harms way so Jeremy won't have to and she's growing tired of this revival of overprotective bullshit already.

"Who needs a reason?" Damon shrugs and this time Elena yanks herself from his grip, charging forward to stand next to Caroline. He can wait outside by himself.

For the first time since stepping out of the car Caroline gives her friends her full attention. Elena doesn't need much advice but she knows from experience Damon couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. She whirls on him, leveling him with her most serious, don't fuck with me stare, "If you guys need to come in that's fine, but your part in this production isn't a speaking one Damon. Keep your quips to yourself."

"Seconded," Elena nods, and then without further discussion turns on her heel and heads towards the entrance, calling over her shoulder to her boyfriend, "Come on you can buy me a drink."

"If you insist," Damon smirks in response, only hesitating in his pursuit to stare Caroline up and down. "Good luck Blondie," he mutters before he begins to weave through the crowd.

It takes her all of five seconds to guess where Klaus is once she's entered the bar. A stairway trails up the right side of the bar, leading to a small landing with a wide door set into the wall. The stairway is totally bare but at the foot of the landing stands a grim looking man whose obviously standing guard.

He's a hybrid. She can identify them on sight now, a side effect of sharing a bed and a life with one for nearly a decade. She can tell just by the clench of his jaw, the slope of his shoulders. Werewolves can blend into crowds almost seamlessly, only making it obvious on a full moon. Vampires stand out on purpose, smirking and too graceful for their own good. Hybrids bulge in strange places and all their teeth don't quite fit in their mouths. Klaus' is the only one she's ever seen who made the species look graceful and she's supposes he'd had a lot of practice.

She crosses the floor, pushing through the crowd effortlessly until she reaches the stairs. She only makes it up three before the man is in her way. He looms above her, dark eyes, dark hair, and a blank face. She'll have to ask Klaus where he kept this one hidden, because as far as she knew no hybrids ever made it out of Mystic Falls alive after that awful Christmas.

"I need to talk to Klaus," Caroline juts out her chin and tries to look intimidating, a girl who gets what she wants, who doesn't have to ask.

The man doesn't even hesitate before shaking his head, "The boss said no interruptions."

Caroline bites her lip and tries a different tactic, blinking up at the man through underneath her eyelashes, "He'll want to see me,"

The man looks her up and down so thoroughly she's about to blush, but then he shrugs, "No exceptions either."

"Trust me, I'm the exception," she presses, and then she takes a step forward, bring her even closer to him.

He doesn't flinch. God what is with this guy? Does he even have two brain cells to rub together? He maintains his deadpan stare as he insists, "Lady, the boss isn't the mood for his own family, so I don't care who you think you are, walk away." When she hesitates, glancing around and then back up at the office door he finally reacts. His eyes flash yellow, and he whispers, "I wouldn't. That's the last time I'm going to say it nice Little Vampire."

She tries not to flinch at the threat. She's painfully aware just how much a hybrid bite hurts. But she just can't resist trying one more time, she's known for being pushy after all, "You're making a mistake."

When he still doesn't budge she takes a step back and raises her hands as if in defeat. Then she turns on her heel and does something she hasn't since she traded in her pageant crowns for filled up passport books. Caroline Forbes resolves to throw a diva level tantrum. If they're not going to let her up to see him she'll have to get his attention some other way. And she's always fantasized about being at the epicenter of a barroom brawl. Although in her head it was always two exceptionally hot guys that would be fighting over her. But desperate times call for improvisation.

She marches past Damon and Elena, who both raise their eyebrows incredulously as she heads for the bar. She doesn't stop to chitchat. There will be time for explanations when she's handled the situation. Without hesitating she places both hands on the counter and lifts herself onto it. There's a ripple in the crowd, the kind of attention always attracted when a pretty, drunk girl decides to do something stupid.

She turns to face the guy standing in front of the doorway, arches an eyebrow and smirks as she raises her boot to smash the first glass. In a flash she crosses the bar, destroying everything in her wake. She hears a wolf whistle from somewhere behind her, and it must be Damon. The goony hybrid crosses the room and charges her, but she's got at least half a decade on him and in a flash he's on his back, the whole bar rattling from the force.

He's barring his teeth up at her, his eyes flashing yellow and she's just about to bring her foot down on his snapping jaw when she feels someone at her back. He catches her off guard and off balance and she is driven to her knees. She tries to pivot but her attacker is already holding her down with his full, heavy weight. The man she'd been about to finish off is stumbling to his feet and she's starting to think this might not have been the best idea. From the corner of her eye she sees Elena and Damon pushing through the crowd, but there's no way they're going to get to her in time. She braces herself for the bite or the blow and she just can't believe she finally came to New Orleans and she's going to die before-

The man behind her hauls her up by the neck of her T shirt and the hybrid's face returns to its previous human expression. "Can't punish you properly in front of the tourists," the hybrid in front of her explains as the one behind grabs her wrists, "Guess you'll be seeing the boss after all."

She tries not to smile. She shouldn't, because being dragged in front of the King of New Orleans to receive punishment for destroying his bar isn't something that's supposed to inspire happiness. She catches Elena's eye as they push her off the bar and through the crowd and winks. Beside her Damon breaks into a full on smirk but Elena downs whatever is in her plastic cup. She tries to tell herself they've had crazier plans but it's little comfort as she watches her best friend disappear into the office of a thousand year old mass murderer.

The man behind Caroline is digging his fingernails into the skin of her wrists so hard she can tell he's broken skin. She really hopes she gets a good view of his face so that she can repay the favor later, but unfortunately for her time runs out and she's face to face with the man she crossed an ocean to see.

He hasn't changed.

Well duh, of course he hasn't. And after a thousand years of stasis she doesn't know why she expected fifteen years to suddenly make him a different person. It's probably because she's so different, Elena and her stories feel different, and she knows for a fact that Matt is different on a lot levels so it's weird that Klaus is the same. Weird but comforting. The world is tilting on its axis but there he is sitting behind a huge wooden desk in the Klaus Mikaelson gray T and dark jeans special and it's like she's seventeen again.

And speaking of the big wooden desk what is the décor in this place? If she didn't already know he was a thousand years old his office would be a dead giveaway. Who fills the room above a dive bar with priceless antiques and Persian rugs? Two of the walls are made up entirely of bookshelves and she bets that every leather bound novel is first edition. God he's so pretentious.

It's dim, the only light coming from a big brass lamp sitting on a coffee table in the middle of the room, but still she doesn't know who he's trying to fool with the squinting. If she can make out every detail of his bemused expression he can sure as hell tell it's her. She decides to give him a break because he's probably a little taken off guard first by the attack on the bar since she's sure no one's ever been stupid enough to try anything here before and now because she's the one whose being dragged into his office. She does love the opportunity to make an entrance.

"Out," he says before she has enough time to blink. He's staring her down in that creepy smoldering way that's disconcertingly familiar as well. She will not shirk away from him. She will not cower or beg. She needs his help but she's not planning on selling her soul to the devil anytime soon. She juts out her chin and returns his withering stare with a blank one.

The man behind her attempts to explain the situation, "Boss she totally fucked-"

"Out," Klaus interrupts without looking away from her. He doesn't have to look at them to make it clear that one more word of protest or one more second of their presence will be met with punishment. His tone causes a shiver down her spine so she can't even imagine what it does to someone directly under Klaus' thumb. The door closes behind them with a slam. She brings her wrists forward and watches as the fingernail marks begin to heal.

She looks up from them with a scowl, "If I had known this is how you treat guests I would have made sure to come sooner."

She expects a grin but he doesn't react at all. He brings his feet down from the desk and sits up in his chair as he answers her, "Guests who take their boots to the bar top get treated this way yes."

She doesn't like the way he's talking to her. Like she's a stranger. Hell even when they were strangers he didn't speak to her like that. The second time they were in a room together he was stroking her hair and describing her eternal future. She keeps her tone companionable, relaxing against the office door, "Yeah well your goons wouldn't let me in to see you and I needed to get your attention."

"And now you have it," Klaus nods, still with the disaffected tone. She runs a hand through her hair and scowls at him. Rebekah must have gotten it wrong because she certainly isn't feeling at all like he's missed her. "What are you doing here Caroline?" he adds, and it's the first time his voice has held inflection. It softens ever so slightly.

She takes a deep breath to settle her nerves and her annoyance. This isn't about her issues with Rebekah or her issues with Klaus. This isn't about anything other then making sure they all get to see Matt again. She starts at the beginning, "Rebekah came to visit you a week ago-"

"You're here because of my sister?" he interrupts, and she recognizes this tone. It's the paranoid, everyone is against me Klaus voice.

Whatever conspiracy theories he has about her and Rebekah and their potential closeness she'll be dispelling them immediately. "I wouldn't cross the street for your sister let alone an ocean," she scrunches up her nose in distaste before continuing calmly, "Rebekah went back to her house after you kicked her out and Matt was missing. Matt had been taken."

She glances down for the first time since he challenged her to this unspoken staring contest. It's the first time she's said it out loud. Which is why it pisses her off all the more when he asks bewilderedly, "And this pertains to me how love?"

"We need to talk to Bonnie and in order to talk to Bonnie we need a witch," she explains irritably. His mood swings give her whiplash, "By the way you would know all this if you bothered to answer your phone. Rebekah's been calling you like a maniac since I've been with her. It made riding on the plane with her for twelve hours a real treat."

"So my sister needs something and she brought you here to appeal to me," he leads her, sounding bored. Of course Matt is of little consequence to him seeing as his presence doesn't directly benefit Klaus.

"No," she corrects, "Rebekah called Damon, who was with Elena, who knew where I was. And it's not just her who wants to find Matt. We all do." She lets this declaration sit in the air, in all of it vulnerability and weakness. She admitted loving Matt to Elijah but she knows it's the wrong thing to say to Klaus. Instead she watches him watch her until she can't stand it anymore, until she clears her throat and prompts, "Say something."

He blinks, his first change in expression since she was pushed into his office. Then his eyes go pitch black and he leans forwards to rest his elbows on his desk. He looks practically feral as he demands, "Where have you been?"

"You know where," she answers softly. She's not afraid of him even though he's clearly pissed off. If he had wanted to kill her she would have been dead as soon as they closed the door, or he would have had his goons do it some dark alley behind the bar. He doesn't blink for people he doesn't care about. He certainly doesn't have conversations or show curiosity in their whereabouts. "Country hopping ever since Silas decided the best way to get to Bonnie was to try and hurt the rest of us," she expands.

"What an incredible plan that was," he hisses dubiously, "I'm surprised you lot weren't found sooner."

"You couldn't find me," she points out, and despite the situation she smiles at the thought. She'd been good at hiding. She'd kept herself and Stefan hidden and then she and Tyler. It's easiest alone but a lot less fun. She could have staid hidden forever if she needed to.

"You assume I exerted myself," he replies and when he smiles it's cruel. She hates this.

"Whatever, we did what we had to do and we did it pretty well up until you summoned Rebekah back to this hell dimension," she kicks off the wall and crosses the room towards him. There's no time for games or emotional abuse. She will not play punching bag or apologize for running for her life, "Look I know you're mad at Rebekah and it seems like you're mad at me too, although I find that pretty ridiculous given the circumstances, but we need your help."

"Now," he points out darkly as she stops a few feet away from him. He's drumming his fingers against his desk and she's going to reach across and strangle him, "You need my help now that you and your friends have gotten into trouble. Fifteen years ago you had no problem running off and involving my sister in your little cover up. You chose your path, and the consequences-"

And with that something in her snaps. It's time to yell, "Chose? You think I chose to give up college and my future? My home and my life? I watched Silas murder my mother and then broke Stefan out of freaking safe at the bottom of a lake." She sucks in a deep breath, and forces her voice to even out, "I was there when he mind jacked you remember? When you were convinced you were dying? Matt made it sound like this place was a total mess and we didn't think-" she pauses, because they both know no one but she and Rebekah would have ever considered coming here, "I didn't think you needed to be fighting two wars at once." It's only when she finishes speaking that she realizes that she has crossed the distance and is gripping the lip of his desk with both hands. She hopes she leaves marks.

"And following the ripper around? That was the safer option in your opinion?" He just can't stop himself can he? Another accusation. Another little dig about her life and her choices and the company she keeps. Maybe he thinks she followed Stefan because they were in love and not because she loved him. People like him never can understand the distinction.

"Oh my god we help each other," she explains, frustrated. By the end of this conversation she will have torn out all her hair and thrown this desk across the room, "I know it's a foreign concept that you've never cared enough to learn about but that's what friends do. It doesn't matter if it's convenient or safe. When I was turned Stefan saved me. He took me on and he taught me how to exist and how to, you know, not totally murder everyone I loved. So yeah I followed him and I fought with him and eventually I talked him out of being a total psycho. He would have done it for me."

He's still looking at her with the angry eyes and the dead expression. She doesn't know this Klaus, this is the Klaus that everybody else knows. The one that can't be reasoned with, who refuses to do anything other then exactly what he wants to do. This is made explicitly clear when he breaks eye contact and begins to conclude, "The boy is no friend of mine regardless of Rebekah's weakness-"

"Weakness?" she says it softly but it still makes him stop talking. Thank God. She nods to herself, and looks at him one last time. She's banged her head against this brick wall enough. She turns on her heel and heads for the door, "This was a mistake."

She hears the wheels on his desk chair squeak but for some reason she's still surprised when he appears in front of her. His head is tilted as he takes a step towards her. It's too close. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted. "What would you do? If not my help then whose?" he demands.

"We'd have to find Jeremy," she sighs, running a hand through her mussed hair again. This is a disaster and she just wants it to be over, "He can communicate with Bonnie."

"Silas was able to track Rebekah. He'd find you too," Klaus points out. His voice is careful. She realizes that he's trying to pretend he doesn't care.

"Maybe," she acquiesces. Death is always an option. It had been an option when she walked into this office, but it was worth the risk to find Matt. That's just who she is and it's also one of the reasons why the two of them would never have worked. Klaus can't grasp unconditional. He was never taught that love shouldn't come with strings.

"Don't be a fool Caroline. As soon as you left the city and the protection my witches provide you'd be taken," his voice strains on the last word, curls it around his tongue and makes it sound bitter. God the accent hasn't changed a bit either.

"I'm going to do everything I can to find Matt. If that makes me stupid then you and I both know I always have been," she decides defiantly. Then she almost walks around him. Those would have been awesome last words to leave him with before taking off into the sunset.

But then she remembers the blood on Rebekah's shirt and the way Matt used to smile and laugh and speak shitty Italian. She takes a step forward and tilts her head up so she can still look him in the eye, "It's not a weakness your sister feels. They love each other. He became a vampire to be with her forever and he didn't even get a year. Rebekah loves him Klaus. Help us find him." She grabs his arm and squeezes and tries not to let the way he flinches make her heart clench. She was supposed to be appealing, she was supposed to be nice, and now she has been, "Just help us please."

He can't look at her anymore so he lifts his head up. She can almost feel his lips move against her forehead, that's how close they are. "A witch?" he asks.

"So we can talk to Bonnie," she sighs, relaxing ever so slightly. She doesn't have to leave or die or watch Elena's face fall when she hears they're going to play Russian Roulette with her brother's life again. He's going to help.

"Alright," he takes a step back and when she doesn't immediately release arm they both look down. Her neon blue nails look ridiculous against his pale skin. "Alright love," he repeats, and this time she lets him go.

He circles around her and heads back towards his desk, already beginning to punch numbers into a cellphone. She looks at the space where he used to be standing and tries to feel glad but instead she feels a pit forming in her stomach. It's an awful realization.

This was the easy part.

**Guys this chapter took forever and I think it definitely deserves a review. Planning on having Stefan finally make into town next chapter and Bonnie too, although they'll be using much different modes of transportation. It's gonna be great. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

It seems that awkward rides in very confined spaces will be a hazard of her life for the time being, because the trip to the Mikaelson house has her wishing to be anywhere else. Even back on the plane with psycho Rebekah seems an enviable position to this one. Elena and Damon sit as far away from Klaus as possible, but the town car isn't roomy. She plans on making it clear later that their actions totally throw her under the bus as it forces her to sit so close to him that their arms press against each other. If she moved her knee an inch they would be touching there too.

She's trying to give Elena the evil eye but her alleged BFF is conveniently looking anywhere but her. Damon's on the phone with Stefan and Caroline's sitting there counting the literal seconds until he arrives. He'll take some of the attention off of her seeing as he and Klaus used to be mates and all.

It's more then that though. As she's always felt able to talk to Stefan about the thoughts in her head in ways she can't with Elena or Damon. Stefan will nod and brood and coach her through the anger and the frustration that's overwhelming her right now. The selfish parts that hate being the bait and the blonde, Klaus' little ingénue. The even selfisher parts that are secretly fascinated by the hold she has over him, the boundaries and definition of such a connection.

After so long alone together they're very comfortable with each other's worst parts. The impulses and the secret desires and the volatility bubbling just underneath the carefully controlled surface. They're both good people, deep down they really are. But it's also within their abilities to be wild animals, to give into the instincts that have been ingrained within them ever since they turned. It's why Stefan goes off the rails and drinks so deep he beheads people and why Caroline can snap twelve witch's necks when her friend's in danger. There's only so much control within a vampire she's found. However, they always do manage to claw their way back. Always.

And it's just her personal opinion that Stefan can't arrive fast e-fucking-nough.

Klaus is texting and he's actually typing so fast she can't read what he's writing. Not for lack of trying though. She's on her fifth attempt when he glances at her and raises his eyebrows, "How about some privacy love?"

She rolls her eyes and pretends she wasn't just blatantly peeping, "Believe me I wish I could, but this thing's not exactly spacious." She makes her point by trying to squirm away, pressing even closer to the car door. She earns about an inch of space and they're still touching along the entire length of her arm.

"Are the accommodations not to your liking?" he asks before going back to his message and grumbling, "You could always walk."

"I could always push you out," she counters with a wry grin, "There'd be plenty of room then."

"I wish you all the luck in the world with that," he nods amusedly, as if she were no more threatening then a fly. She had almost forgotten what it feels like to not be the most threatening predator in a room.

"Stefan's in Thailand?" Elena ask suddenly, interrupting Caroline's thoughts and whatever sassy thing she'd been about to snap at Klaus. As Elena stares levelly back at her she realizes that was her friend's intention. Elena doesn't know just how comfortable her friend can be with Klaus and Caroline realizes she doesn't know anymore either. Once Elena has her attention though the brunette immediately looks away, eyes lowering as she admits, "That's what Damon said."

This gets Klaus' attention. He looks up from his cell phone to inquire with fake concern, "The two of you aren't on speaking terms anymore sweetheart?"

Caroline immediately turns to give him a withering look. She doesn't know why he feels the need to poke at emotional weak spots. As if being in love or being hurt is some sort of joke. She supposes maybe it might be a morbid curiosity since he allows himself to genuinely care about so few things. "Worry about the witch," she hisses before facing Elena again and explaining, "He's been visiting temples there for the last six months, trying his hand at Buddhism and Zen and all that. As of last week he was at Wat Sai."

"Yai," Klaus corrects under his breath.

"What?" Caroline asks, this time without looking at him. She and Stefan speak at least once a week. It's usually when she's lying in bed feeling like she doesn't belong anywhere or to anyone that day. She'll press the phone to her ear and make him tell her all the details of his usually boring week. He'll crack jokes and tease her and generally just make her feel like she has a friend, that she's connected to someone who knows her inside and out and loves her still. It's only ever been platonic, the love she feels for Stefan, the bond, but on those days she thinks their relationship is probably the best one she's ever had with a boy.

Klaus looks up and clarifies calmly, "It's pronounced Wat _Yai_ love." She turns and he catches her in his gaze. Those fucking eyes. Something so dangerous shouldn't be allowed to have eyes like that. He smirks, and she's once again reminded of how close they are, "I've been there once or twice. Beautiful. You'd love it."

He doesn't offer to take her like he would have fifteen years ago and it's a relief as well as a slight. She's really not going to look away first this time. But then Damon hangs up his phone and interrupts, "Well however you say it he's not there anymore. He just boarded his layover in Miami and he'll be here in two hours."

Caroline breaks out into a genuine grin and Klaus' eyes darken. He turns to Damon and replies with feigned enthusiasm, "Brilliant. Can't wait to have the band back together."

"Me neither," Caroline sighs, and it comes out almost dreamy. Elena flinches and beside her she can feel Klaus stiffen ever so slightly. She hadn't meant it like that.

Damon levels her with an appraising glare. He owes her a lot, even he can admit that. She'd taken care of Stefan when he couldn't, gotten him back on the straight, narrow and sane. She'd lost her mother in the process of saving his brother and Liz had been his friend. Somewhere, in the rational part of his brain, he knows he should act grateful. But in the selfish part, the part that usually dictates, he's never really forgiven her for being right, for recognizing what he didn't. She's known his brother for barely anytime at all and she's laying claims, presuming she knows him best. And so he kinks his eyebrow and makes her life a little bit more uncomfortable as payback, "You get ahold of your ex Blondie?"

Elena sighs, and her head falls back against the seat, "You just had to."

Caroline clears her throat and tries not to feel him looking at her from the corner of his eye, though the rhythm of his typing hasn't lost a beat. "I don't know where Tyler is," she clarifies, before adding humiliatingly, "I don't know his number either." And isn't that just so telling? Won't that just make his day?

Or maybe not. What does she know about Klaus as he is right now? Klaus with a kingdom? Klaus with a mass of loyal subjects who guard his doors and drive his cars? Hell it's been half a decade since she's worried about Tyler, it's probably been twice as long since Tyler's even crossed Klaus' mind. Just because he doesn't want her to die a terrible death doesn't mean he cares about her in any way that matters. He'd loved his sibling, hadn't wanted them to die, but he'd still treated them horribly. He'd daggered them and controlled them and threatened them all the time.

He wants to play chess master with her world, he always has, and the guise of help gives him the perfect opportunity to stick her directly under his thumb. It's not genuine. It can't be. Klaus doesn't really care about anyone no matter how he smiles or how comforting it feels to be sitting directly next to one of the world's dangerous creatures and know that, at least for the time being, he's on her side. But still she reminds herself, he's going to get them a witch and that's as far as his support is going to go.

Hopefully.

"Which we covered," Elena clarifies, giving her boyfriend yet another reproachful look and covering for Caroline's whirring mind.

"Yesterday," Caroline adds, and she hates that her voice comes out soft and tentative, that Klaus is full on looking at her now. She keeps her eyes averted, staring intently at her folded hands.

"Just confirming," Damon grins. God he's such a child sometimes. Why in the world does Elena put up with it?

"Oh look we're here," Elena observes as she looks out the window. Caroline wonders how she's noticed their travels as she herself has missed their trip entirely. Although Elena hasn't been trying to catch a few stray words on a brightly lit screen or getting into staring contests with the world's oldest vampire. It tends to distract. "And there's Rebekah. Who I have never been happier to see in my life," Elena continues to ramble as Caroline reaches for the door handle.

She steps out slowly, caught in a trance by the yard they've pulled into. The driveway is circular and made up of interconnected cobblestones. They're far removed from traffic, although in the distance she spots a tall wrought iron fence that must lead back onto the street. Everything in the yard is in bloom, lush green surrounding her on all sides.

And the house. God the house. White with black shutters and a set of arched and intimidating red doors that are flung wide open. It sprawls long on either side but the main building has a large porch and thick pillars and is lit by candles and twinkle light strung up from the ceiling. It gives the whole place a magical look, like fireflies have amassed just to light their way. He has to have a decorator, because there's no way for her brain to picture Klaus or Elijah string up strands of tiny lights or lighting candles for anything other then ritual sacrifices.

Bekah's sitting on the white porch steps, which are so clean they seem to glow in the dark. She stands as Caroline appears from the car. She still hasn't changed her clothes. "What's going on?" she asks in a small voice, her pretty eyes wide. This time Caroline does feel bad, an ache starting to form in the pit of her stomach. With a brother like Klaus she must never have known for sure if his next move would be to help or hurt.

"It's okay," Caroline breathes, and she tries to make her smile genuine. She and this girl will never be friends, they share far too much history, but she can sympathize, she can help bring her brother to heel for the few precious hours it will take them to locate Matt.

"Yes sister," Klaus adds, and Caroline feels him directly behind her, once again too close for comfort. She takes a few steps forward to allow his space to pass her, which he does immediately, "she accomplished your dirty work. I've sent for a witch."

Rebekah blinks but then, in a move that shouldn't be surprising given that they're blood relatives but still takes Caroline completely off guard, Rebekah blurs forward to stand in front of her brother. She presses onto the tips of her toes and wraps her arms around his neck, "Thank you Nik."

Klaus remains perfectly still, making no effort to return her affections. And when Rebekah moves away a few moments later he doesn't look at her, instead he turns to the three still standing by the car. Damon has once again moved in front of the pair of girls, his arms crossed over his chest as he waits to see what happens next.

"To communicate with Bonnie Bennett we'll need a witch of considerable power. I had Sophie on other business so it will take a few hours for her to arrive. Rebekah will show you the place. Please refrain from making yourselves comfortable," he explains, before moving towards the steps and leaving them in their awkward and loaded silence.

Rebekah can't let him go though, not when every second she is separated from Matt feels like a physical weight on her shoulders. She blurs in front of him again, this time with a much less conciliatory look on her face, "Surely there's another. It doesn't have to be Soph-"

"The only one I trust with matters such as this is Sophie," Klaus elaborates, his voice strained. He will not be explaining to Rebekah why he trusts Sophie Deveraux so implicitly. If she wants to know the story she should have been around to live it like he and Elijah were forced to. He lowers his voice dangerously, "Do as you're told Rebekah, before I recall why I threw you out of this house it the first place."

Without looking back he disappears through the open doors of his house. Damon lets out a low whistle and looks from Elena to Caroline, holding out his arms for each girl to take, "Lets go make ourselves unwelcome."

* * *

A bit later and she's blissfully alone for the first time in nearly forty-eight hours. Upon entering the building Elena had found Elijah in the large kitchen and Rebekah had taken Damon into a separate room to make proper drinks. Caroline had waited around for her vodka cranberry with extra extra vodka, but had feigned sleep as soon as it was in her hand. Rebekah had waved her towards a hallway and she'd been wandering around ever since.

It's not that she's snooping again, or at least that's what she'll say if anyone catches her, it's just that she's naturally curious. Her mother was cop after all, and as cheer captain and coordinator of everything that happened in Mystic Falls ever, she's a natural born information gatherer. She likes to be in the know. The girl with the gossip and the secrets and the intrigue. She'd used information as a weapon before she'd been able to use her fangs and her fists, before she learned secrets that made all the others look like child's play, that revealed to her just how shallow of a kiddie pool she'd been standing in all those years before.

Now though she's actually just genuinely looking for something, something she won't admit she's looking for until she finds it going door to door and peaking her through the crack with one blue eye. It's not him. She's not looking for Klaus. Not the angry, melodramatic child who can't even hug his own sister back. No she doesn't want to see that person, she wants to see the guy she actually likes every once in awhile for the split seconds she can see them as separate entities.

She wants to see the room where he keeps his art.

Unfortunately, because nothing in her life can be easy now that she's being forced to actually live it again, the Klaus she doesn't like is hiding amongst the things she does. And he hears her coming.

He's looking at her as soon as she cracks open the door, seated in the middle of the room at yet another wooden desk. There's no way she can back out without looking she's scared of him so she pushes the door all the way open and pretends like she belongs. The room is obviously his home office, and there are yet more bookshelves and Persian rugs and overly ostentatious vases. However, this room also contains a few fancy looking easels and rows of stacked canvases along the far wall. A pile of papers that don't look at all business related sit on the corner of his desk. She wants to look, for some reason her fingers practically itch, but the idea of it feels so intimate she can't allow herself the impulse.

He speaks first and she's grateful, "I thought you'd be resting." It comes out almost affectionate, and she wonders a tad bitterly where this familiarity was twenty minutes ago. Why can't he stick with one personality for more then five freaking seconds?

She snorts, though she'd imagined herself growing up to marry a prince and live in a castle even at age sixteen, Caroline has never felt comfortable in mansions. Her mother had raised her on her own with a government salary. They'd never been poor but they'd never lived in the lap of luxury either. Her house was cozy and her bedroom was small and that was just the way it was, the way it always had been. She'd never admit it out loud but she always felt more comfortable sleeping over at Matt's then at Tyler's.

"Can't sleep," she shrugs, still hovering in the doorway, "This house is too big.'

"You're the first girl to ever complain about the size," he quips back lightly. His hand is hovering on a mouse that's connected to a large computer, but for the first time since they were alone at the bar she's receiving his full attention.

"A dirty joke. Really?" she asks incredulously, but for some reason she finds herself smiling, "At a time like this?"

He pauses, and the stormy look returns to his eyes just a tad. She's reminded him of their situation, of their history. "You came looking for me love," he points out, and it's not exactly true but she won't argue and risk admitting what is, "What exactly were you hoping to find?"

It's then she notices something else sitting before him, a leather bound album that looks familiar. She walks forward until she's standing with her legs pressed against the edge of the desk. Her drink is forgotten on some end table near the doorway. "You looked through my bags," she accuses, not looking at him as she runs her fingers along the album.

Most are pictures of her childhood, when she was a sweet and chubby baby with sticky fingers and a lopsided grin. Her parents together. Elementary school lines with her arms around little Bonnie and little Elena. A few of her in cheer and sophomore summer with her and Elena and Bonne spread out in beach chairs. Jeremy when he was still in his goth faze. Matt before he was quarterback. The rest are her and Stefan, her and Tyler, of California and England. She and Stefan were pretty innocuous, arms around waists and bright smiles as they stood in front of their apartment or the bar or a restaurant with friends whose name's she could no longer remember. She and Tyler had been in love. They had been tangled and kissing and stupid happy. He must be reading into why she'd held onto the evidence of that failed relationship. He must wonder because she wonders herself.

"I looked through all of your bags," he replies unapologetically and she flicks her eyes up to look at him, to show him that he may not be sorry but that doesn't make her any less angry. It's then that he adds, "I never thought you'd change your hair." It's conciliatory. He sounds almost proud.

"Blondes stick out in a crowd," she shrugs. She can only remember those first few days in blurs. She'd dyed in her hair in some motel sink in Kentucky and hadn't had time to think about it again until she was in Nevada. Stefan needed looking after, she had messes and chaos and the sound of her mother's spine snapping in half still ringing in her ears.

"You stick out in a crowd," Klaus counters, and she will not be acknowledging the compliment. She should have known he'd be even nosier then she was, "I don't believe brunette suit you best though. I rather prefer you blonde."

She runs a hand through her hair, which is back to its natural color. She'd been a brunette in California and all through the rest of her relationship with Tyler. It was only in France that she'd felt comfortable enough to change it back, like she'd disappeared for long enough. When she'd stepped out of the shower and wiped the fog off the mirror she had really recognized her reflection for the first time in years. "I obviously agree," she acquiesces as she plays with the blunt edges of her hair.

"I see you made it across the pond," he continues, and he looks a little wary. She wonders if he's upset she made it there herself, that in the end she hadn't needed him to take her anywhere.

"Eventually," she answers vaguely. This is the same game she played with Elijah just an hour ago.

"You preferred France to England?" he asks, and it's a leading question if she's ever heard one. He's far from an idiot, and his powerful observation skills must have picked up that she was always with Tyler in England and always alone in France. He must think she's an idiot if he thought she'd fall for that.

"I preferred who I was in France to who I was in England," she answers honestly. There's no use lying or making her relationship with Tyler seem like something it wasn't. She'd done that in her own head for long enough. She's done with the small talk though, with the pretense that this is some conversation between friends. She cuts off whatever next question he'd been about to ask with a glare and a reprimand, "You shouldn't have looked through my pictures." She reaches forward and pulls the album off his desk definitively, but she doesn't leave. Instead she lowers herself into the nearest leather chair and continues to glower at him.

He still doesn't look sorry. He barely even attempts to make his tone contrite as he points out, "You're lucky to have mementos of those you've lost. Some of us aren't so lucky."

"Yes, so very lucky," she agrees sarcastically. She'd burn all her pictures this second if it meant even five more minutes with her mother. She can see why Klaus would prefer the pictures though. It's easier to control the story when the other character can't talk back. You can pretend you're parents loved you when you look at them in glossy print. Something you can't do when you're forced to witness them in the living flesh trying to murder you and your siblings.

She doesn't know what he'll reply to that. He'd known she'd followed Stefan so he must have known for a quite a while that her mother had died, that Silas has stolen more from her then anyone else at this point. Jeremy had come back. They'd found Stefan eventually. Bonnie had made her choice and they'd all had to live with it. It was only Caroline that hadn't found a loophole, that hadn't escaped heartbreak by a hair or someone else's sacrifice.

She finds herself suddenly overwhelmed by the sentiment, and decides she doesn't want to have this conversation either, reaching forward she grabs the stack of his sketches and pulls them into her lap on top of her album, "But you know what, since we're getting personal and all…"

She stares down, the one on top is a landscape, all swirly trees and shadowy figures. She doesn't recognize the scene and, she's desperately thankful, doesn't recognize herself in any of his attempts at people. She looks at that first creation for a long time before she looks back at him, "I always wished I could draw. Or do something like that you know? Something to take the edge off. Stefan journals, Damon drinks, Elena used to run." Her voice is soft as she confides in him for reasons unknown to her. She just hasn't talked about herself, her real self, to someone other then Stefan in _so_ long, "I liked to plan. You knew that about me right?"

He smiles wistfully as he remembers her at that pageant, snapping and sashaying and throwing orders like she'd been born to do so. "I did," he nods.

"Not hostile takeovers or usurping's or whatever it is you're into. I like to plan things that make people happy. I like to stand in the back with a clipboard and a headset and watch as people walk into a room and their eyes get big," she continues, and she smiles at the memories. At the decade dances and homecomings and even prom, "And if I didn't live a life that always results in total freaking chaos I could have been good at it."

"You were never meant to stand in the back," he argues softly, and he pauses before admitting, "I would have shown you how to draw."

She snorts, but stops her voice from being totally hostile as she reminds, "That would have required the two of us spending extended amounts of time together. You were always too busy trying to destroy the world and I was too busy stopping you."

"I like the world as it is actually," he smiles at her, trying to contain his amusement at her annoyance.

"Oh I'm sorry," she apologizes with a roll of her eyes, "the whole world is pretty broad. It was just my world and the world of everyone I loved."

"I do remember saving your necks a few times in there as well," he remarks dryly. He'd come when she'd called after all. He'd given his blood to Damon Salvatore for her. He would have come again. He would have protected her if only she'd cared enough to ask.

"We will always have graduation won't we?" she replies, and her tone softens at the memory. That was always the sad part. There was a good in him, at least there always had been for her, "The hat projectile was a nice touch."

"I thought the occasion called for some flair," he smirks, "Glad you appreciated it love."

"I did," she nods, and then she hesitates before relenting quietly, "I do now too." She can only hold his gaze for a few more seconds before looking back down at the sketches. She should leave now but she doesn't really want to. She can't be around Elijah and Elena, with their weird understanding of one another or Damon and Rebekah, who have the same bond on a much shallower level. It's funny to note that they've fanned out to the original they connect most with like moths to flames, and in her case it's the man sitting across from her. Out of all the people in this house she could be sitting with she chooses him. Still she can't look at him when she asks, "Can I sit here or will it make you self conscience?"

"By all means," he murmurs eventually, and a few seconds later she hears the click of the mouse as he goes back to work.

She makes herself comfortable, curling herself into the chair until she can almost rest her chin on her knees. She takes her time going through the sketches, studying each one intently until she's appreciated every detail. Sometimes she can feel his eyes on her, appraising her appraisal, but she doesn't look up. Eventually she runs out of artwork and her eyes start to drift shut. She really should go find a bedroom to sleep in-

* * *

She jolts awake later, when Klaus' cellphone starts to buzz a few feet away from her. He answers as she rubs her eyes. She'd fallen asleep. She'd literally fallen asleep with only a desk separating her from the bane of her existence. God desperate times really do call for desperate measures.

Running a hand through her hair she takes a second to regroup. She's still in the chair, still holding onto her photo album. The sketches must have fallen out of hands when she'd drifted off because they're scattered on the floor now. He's still behind his desk, speaking low and fast into the phone as she bends to pick up the pieces of paper.

Is it possible they'd just shared a rather mundane aspect of familiarity? That she'd slept and he'd worked and it hadn't felt weird until this second? She wonders how long it's been since a nonfamily member felt comfortable enough to sleep in the same room as Klaus. Actually she wonders if even his family members feel comfortable enough to do that.

There's definitely something wrong with her.

She sets the sketches back on his desk as Klaus disconnects the call. He catches her eye and he seems bemused at her rumpled appearance, at her sleepy swollen lips and messy hair. "Good nap love?" he asks softly, and if she could blush at her carelessness she would. When she doesn't answer, only blinks up at him silently, Klaus announces, "Stefan's arrived."

Caroline feels the smile break out across her lips, and before she can stop herself with her head her body takes control and she's blurred out of the office. She passes by Damon and Rebekah, who are commiserating on a couch in the foyer and Elena and Elijah, who are still in the kitchen. Someone's closed the front doors, and she throws them open and watches as the door of the town car propels forward and reveals her best friend.

She nearly knocks him on his ass.

Certainly the force of her hug knocks him back into the car. She wraps both arms around his neck and squeezes until he mutters her name under his breath. It's more amusedly then anything else though, and she knows it because his arms press against her back and his lips brush against the top of her head.

"Sight for sore eyes doesn't even begin Salvatore," she mutters as she pulls away, still beaming.

"I missed you too Caroline," he answers as he turns to grab the strap of his duffel bag and drag it out of the car. His hair is shorter but the rest of him is familar, right down to the hoody under the leather jacket and the way he only kind of smiles at her.

"Yeah we get it," she hears Damon behind her, the sound of his footsteps as he walks down the porch steps, "the two of you are best friends forever, emphasis on the forever."

Caroline steps aside as Damon reaches them, watching as the pair embraces with only a touch of awkwardness. "Brother," Stefan greets, and Caroline notices the way his eyes flick up to the house over Damon's shoulder. Elena's silhouette is visible as she stands in the doorway, her face showing a war of indecision. She always has worn her heart on her sleeve.

The originals must be making their way to the entrance because Elena walks forward, coming to stand next to Damon in the driveway. "It's good to see you Stefan," she whispers with a lot more then a touch of awkwardness.

He nods, and Caroline reaches for his arm and squeezes reassuringly. She's honestly not sure where the conversation is going to go when another set of headlights start winding up the drive. "Who's that?" Stefan asks, catching Caroline's eye as she watches the car.

"It's Sophie," Rebekah calls from the porch, "Finally."

"Yes, finally," Klaus voice cuts through the air, as he takes in the reunion from his view next to his sibling on the porch. Caroline's hand still rest familiarly on Stefan's shoulder. All of his amusement, his softness has evaporated of course. His jaw is clenched as taunt as he rubber band as he adds, "Lets get this business over with shall we?"

* * *

It takes Katherine hours before she's alone. Before she can squirrel away a few moments to pull the burner phone she's kept for just such an occasion from the false bottomed desk drawer in the bedroom of her apartment. She goes to the bathroom and turns on the shower to mask her voice. The lock wouldn't do much good if the hybrids who guard her every waking moment of her life really want to get in, but she has her vanity and her pretense and even in this hellish existence she'd like to sometimes pretend she has free will.

Her treacherous heart pounds in her chest as she presses the numbers into her phone, remembering how she'd seen Damon weaving through the crowded bar first. Then after a few moments she'd noticed he'd been dragging her doppelganger behind him. Elena looked as entitled and naive as ever and Katherine's blood had boiled. It was only when her progeny decided to make a scene on top of the bar that Katherine realized what kind of opportunity was presenting itself.

He answers on the first ring.

"Marcel," Katherine begins in her calm, cloying voice, "If you were ever planning on making a comeback, now's the time."

**Bonnie's next I promise! Review please. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys it sounds like this chapter didn't actually post so I deleted and re-uploaded it. Sorry about that and thanks TwistedType for letting me know. **

**Chapter 6**

The first thing Caroline notices about Sophie is her heavily pregnant stomach. The girl looks about ready to burst as she waddles towards the group with one hand on her belly and the other on her back. She has on a black dress that reaches all the way to her ankles and a cream colored sweater that is falling off one of her shoulders. She's wearing dream catcher earrings and a collage of necklaces and she is just so, so pregnant.

The second thing is that she and Elijah definitely have something weird going on because, while Rebekah and Klaus begin to approach the witch, their older brother stays behind on the porch. He watches Sophie though, watches her stomach and the way she rubs it as she moves. Caroline guesses Sophie to be mid to late thirties, and Klaus seems to have known her for a long time. There would have been plenty of time for business to overlap with pleasure though she would never have pegged Elijah as the type.

But he had tried to start something back up with Katherine she recalls, back when they all still lived in Mystic Falls. That definitely means he has to be more of a wildcard then she's giving him credit for. It's satisfying to note that all the originals have emotional problems though, with Elijah just holding his a little closer to the vest. At least Rebekah and Klaus have good taste to go along with their issues. Caroline doesn't know Sophie yet but there's nothing redeemable about Katherine and anybody who thinks differently is either delusional or stupid. Elijah has got to be fucked up in the head.

Instead of heading for Klaus and Rebekah Sophie makes a beeline for the four of them. "You must be Caroline," Sophie exclaims as she throws out her arms. Caroline hesitates. It's not just that this woman is a very powerful witch, it's that Caroline can hear the little baby's heart beating as fast as humming bird. It seldom bothers her that she'll never have children. In fact she rarely ever thinks about it. She rarely has to think about it. Sophie and her big belly make this ignorance impossible though and reality hits her for just a split second but it's staggering nonetheless.

Sophie pulls her close so she can whisper in her ear, "You're the only person to ever evade my summoning spell Caroline Forbes." Caroline flinches at the words and the soft way Sophie says them, as if the fact that Klaus couldn't hunt her down like a dog is some amusing little anecdote.

"Yeah well I've got friends in dead places," Caroline replies caustically as she pulls away. Sophie keeps her smile firmly in place. They've both kept their voices low, so muted that even Stefan, who is standing right next to her, only gets the last few words of Caroline's sentence. He furrows his eyebrows at her but Caroline keeps her eyes trained on Sophie, on this witch who so easily works with Klaus.

Sophie gazes levelly back, her dark and mysterious eyes inscrutable as she agrees, "Yes I can't wait to meet Bonnie Bennett. I'd love to cause so much trouble from beyond the grave when I pass."

"Yeah we're really appreciating the trouble given that one of our friends might be dead," Damon hisses and despite Stefan's presence Elena moves fractionally closer to him. Did he really just refer to Matt as one of his friends?

"You must be Damon, which makes you Stefan and you Elena," Sophie cracks a half smile as her eyes move over the three individuals surrounding Caroline. She is certainly the odd one out, blonde and blue eyes in a sea of dark hair and even darker eyes. While the other three seem to blend in with the shadows Caroline's pale skins seems to glow in the moonlight. Still Sophie can't immediately see what the boss is so in love with. Caroline's just another vampire, nothing special there. "I've done my research," Sophie finishes with a knowing look.

"Charming," Damon sneers.

Klaus and Rebekah reach the group, and Sophie shifts to address them. What a good little employee Caroline observes bitterly. "Hey boss," Sophie grins toothily. She barely acknowledges Rebekah, which is probably a good thing.

"How's bed rest in the countryside treating you?" Klaus asks amiably and Caroline has to keep her mouth from falling open. Since when does Klaus care about people's personal feelings? Since when does he believe "other business" involves bed rest?

What's even more perplexing is that Sophie rolls her eyes at him, as if the question is some sort of inside joke. It's almost like he's teasing her. "Bored to tears of course, but I knew I would be. Liam's taking long walks just to get away from me at this point and he hates the country even more then I do." As Sophie finishes yet another shocking thing occurs. She pivots her body to look at the oldest Mikaelson, who still stands immobile on the porch, "Hello Elijah."

The tension between the two then becomes so obvious that Caroline is immediately uncomfortable. She glances at Stefan, who raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. They're probably better off not knowing any specifics. "Ms. Deveraux," Elijah nods, and it terrifies Caroline that even when he is so obviously upset he can manage to keep his face expressionless. Then all at once the moment has passed, Elijah turns away, "If you'll excuse me I have other matters to attend to."

As he disappears Sophie sighs and turns back to her boss, "Still can't stand the sight of me huh? Four years and counting." Once again the two of them share a private grin. God this is bizarro world.

Thankfully Rebekah chooses that moment to lose her patience. "For God's sake can we move on?" She asks with a frustrated cry. Then she rears on Sophie, asking in a clipped tone, "What do you need in order to summon Bonnie Bennett?"

"I've made a list," Sophie pats her purse, "I'm sure you have everything on hand. I'll also need to hold hands with someone Bonnie would like to talk to. Someone she loved while she was alive." Sophie's eyes move back to the group of Mystic Falls natives. Who out of them did Bonnie Bennett truly love?

"Me," Caroline says immediately, and all eyes turn to her. It shouldn't be that shocking. Besides her there would only be one other option.

Speaking of Elena raises her eyebrows to look at her best friend, beginning to protest, "Caroline-"

Figures, Caroline thinks traitorously, Elena can't have someone out-martyring her. She shakes her head though before her best friend can get her full protest out, "No I want to Elena."

"Brave," Sophie observes, and her tone might be a little impressed. Klaus on the other hand looks murderous. Five minutes ago she was passed out in his study and now she's volunteering to be Sophie's puppet. Elena is well rested, Elena is well fed, Elena is certainly more disposable. He's about to voice his thoughts when Stefan beats him to it.

"Or reckless," the kinder Salvatore brother observes as he looks down at his blonde friend. Her eyes are heavy lidded and her skin is even paler then usual. It might have been years since they last saw each other but he still knows her, and even more then that he knows hunger, "When was the last time you fed Caroline?"

She raises her head to look back at him, and makes sure to keep her eyes clear and tone even as she asserts, "I'm fine." And then, because he's her friend and he's just looking out for her and she's so unequivocally happy to see him, she reaches forward to squeeze his arms again, "I'm doing this."

"Awesome," Sophie claps her hands together, snapping the tension and ending any debate, "Lets set up. I'm going to need someone to help me scrounge for supplies and to lift them, since in this condition I'm close to useless." Her observation is made without any heat, and she still rubs circles over her stomach affectionately. Sophie turns to head into the house without waiting for an invitation and Rebekah, Caroline and her three friends move to follow.

That is until Klaus' hand clamps down on her arm, "Not you." Stefan and Elena stop walking, which drags Damon to a halt as well. Klaus and Caroline don't notice, as they're too busy having their own stare off. Caroline notes that he doesn't seem angry anymore, although she can't read what exactly is going on inside his head. He starts to drag her towards the house, inside but away from Sophie, "Come I have blood." He looks back at her friends, his gaze daring them to question him, to say a word. "Find us when you're ready," he orders them before he and Caroline disappear into the kitchen.

* * *

"Awfully stubborn," he observes of her under his breath. His hand is still on her arm, but looser now, like a habit, like he wants it there. She should yank herself away, but he's being nice so she supposes she should be too. He doesn't make the opinion sound like a bad thing. He likes that she's stubborn, though it proves often to be an inconvenience to him. Just as she's stubborn in her love, in her bravery she is stubborn in her distrust, her dislike. The fierce little blonde certainly does know how to hold a grudge.

"Bet on it," she snaps back at him, although her retort is said with a smile. Her eyes shift over the kitchen. It doesn't look intimidating, like there's someone chained up in the pantry, but just to be sure she hedges to him, "I'm not drinking from a human, so if you have someone compelled in a cupboard-"

Klaus thanks Elijah's foresight in sending home the few human employees they kept on the estate. Many of them had tell-tale puncture mark scars, although he rarely drank at home these days, and all of them were compelled within in an inch of their lives. His brother had probably done it for Elena's sake but it works in his favor with Caroline as well. He grins wryly at her as he interrupts, "There are no humans in the house, you'll have to make do with something bagged."

He releases her and heads towards the large stainless steel refrigerator. "I would love to," she retorts honestly and can't help but allow him a relieved smile. His back is turned, so maybe he can't tell that she is genuinely pleased with him.

She hops onto the counter and as he busies himself in rooting around his unfamiliar refrigerator she looks around his unfamiliar kitchen. Once again she is amazed at his taste, the appreciation he has for beautiful things. She tilts her head up to look through the sky lights set into the ceiling, a thousand stars wink back at her. She wonders how many of them are as old as Klaus. "This house is wonderful," she lets it slip before she can stop herself.

She hears the microwave shut with a click and then he is leaning on the counter across from her, "Dilapidated when I found it but since returned to its former luster." His eyes trace over her as she continues to look around and after a moment he asks amusedly, "Are you planning on wearing that shirt throughout your entire trip?"

Her eyes snap back to him and her chin juts out in a challenge. He's hit a nerve and he loves it. "Something wrong with it?" she asks.

"It has holes in it," he smirks and it does, around the collar. He'd noticed when she slept, her head tipped back and her neck exposed. He wonders if she really realizes how vulnerable she had left herself, how tempting she was. How tempting she is really, sitting here in his house, at his mercy.

"It's old," she shrugs, her lips pursed to stop herself from grinning. This is the first glimpse she's gotten of the Klaus she kind of likes. The Klaus who gave her a prom dress and laughed the whole time.

"You plan to keep it always? A thousand years from now?" he asks, and she doesn't know how to classify the sound of his voice. Wistful maybe, possibly placating.

"As long as I can," she retorts and the look in her eyes dares to tell her she's lucky again. Her high school shirts have holes in them and her pictures are beginning to fade, but at least she has them right? Her whole world was ripped apart but at least she has a record that it existed right?

The timer on the microwave dings and he turns away from her, "It might not be that long given that you're about to let an extremely powerful witch use your body as conduit." He's annoyed with her she can tell. Protective of her if no one else. It's why he'd helped them in the first place.

"Your Bonnie knock off doesn't scare me," Caroline replies as he hands her the heated cup of blood. She should say thank you but she doesn't. She feels the veins by her eyes constrict slightly and so doesn't look up when she asks, "I thought you said she was away on other business?" She takes a long gulp of blood as she waits for him to answer.

"Keeping herself safe is extremely important to me," Klaus replies with a shrug. He doesn't want to talk about Sophie. He wants to keep talking about her.

He hasn't moved back to the counter across from her she notices. Instead he stands next to her and for some reason she knows he's going to touch her and she does nothing to stop him. His thumb lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him. She has licked the blood from her lips but traces hang in the corners. Her eyes are about a dozen shades darker. Beautiful. "Did you know love," he asks, "That you speak in your sleep?"

She wants to look away but she won't give him the satisfaction. He may pretend to be unaffected by the carnage of his life but she is not so heartless. She is still capable of being hurt, of allowing herself to reveal weakness. "I have for years," she replies simply.

"Why," he asks and it really is unnerving how he's watching her. She's never met someone who found her so interesting, who looked at her like he genuinely wanted to know every single thought that crossed her mind.

Still she rolls her eyes. He isn't dense, he just wants her to say it out loud. "Don't play dumb," she accuses, "You know why."

"You still see your mother? After all these years." He actually does sound shocked.

"When I'm sleeping it's like no time has passed," she explains, though she doesn't know why. Maybe because she needs to understand it better herself, "I loved her more then anyone. If I were a human I'd be forced to move on. There'd be college and husbands and babies. I'd have a life that needed living, but I'm a vampire so all I have to do is run. I think of my mother every night."

He looks at her for a long time, and his voice is soft when he answers her, "It'll fade, eventually it will."

She sighs, he really doesn't understand, "Who says I want it to?" Once again they lapse into a heavy silence. His thumb still brushing across the fine bones of her jaw and their gazes locked.

"There you are," Stefan's voice cracks between them like a fault line. Caroline actually jolts. Klaus pulls his hand away but doesn't look away from her even when she turns to find Stefan over her shoulder. He stands in the doorway, his face impassive even though she can see the wheels turning in his head, the suspicion clouding his eyes.

"Is it time," Klaus asks, still not looking. The annoyance is obvious in his voice.

"No, Sophie's still setting up. Rebekah's losing patience though and Damon's not helping," Stefan keeps his voice companionable, like he's talking to two of his friends instead of just one, "I thought it'd be best to get out of the line of fire."

Klaus hesitates for only a split second, "I suppose that's my cue." He blurs away from her without further comment.

"Yes better make sure nothing hits your witch," she mutters under her breath before she can stop herself. She hopes he didn't hear. Stefan approaches her, circling around the counter and taking Klaus' former spot across from her. She holds up her cup, "Do you want some?"

He doesn't even look at the blood. Instead he takes the usual suspicious Stefan stance, arms crossed, head tilted, and eyes brooding, "Are you okay?"

She looks down, "If we get Matt back I'll be fine."

"And you think Klaus is the best way?" he asks incredulously.

"You would rather we risk Jeremy?" she snaps, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes.

"I'm just not sure how much we're risking you," Stefan admits with a sigh, running his hand over his face. They'd been touching when he walked in, talking they knew each other well.

"I've done this before," she points out. They'd had no problem having her sashay around The Grill and almost get her neck snapped. Just because it was her choice now doesn't make it any worse.

"Different times, way different circumstances," he points out, eyebrows raises and gaze searching. She realizes he may know her too well now. He may see the way she doesn't pull away or keep herself at a distance and he is right about one thing, circumstances have changed. They're working with Klaus now, and he is helping because he wants to not because he needs to. For the first time ever they are on exactly the same side.

Still she feels the need to dissuade him, to explain that some things have changed but not nearly enough. "But the same Caroline," she argues, hopping off the counter and approaching him, "You're the only one who doesn't underestimate me Stefan, don't start now."

"I'm not," he shakes his head, "I just don't want you to get so far into something that you can't get out of it at the end. You were having actual conversations with him Caroline. Talking about your mom-"

She grabs his shoulders and forces him to look at her full in the face, "For like ten seconds. We haven't even been here a full day, and anyway someone has to counteract Damon being a raging dick all the time." Despite himself he grins, the fight leeched out of him. She returns his smile and comes to stand next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder, "I'm worried about you too you know. You're heart's a lot more vulnerable then mine is in this situation."

As if on cue Elena appears in the doorway, an anticipatory smile on her lips. It immediately drops when she sees the state of her oldest friend and ex boyfriend. The way they stand, the way they are so obviously comfortable and happy in each other's company. They're best friends now. She wonders how she'd missed it. "Hey," she interrupts, looking down at the ground, "Um we're ready."

* * *

"Hold on tight Caroline," Sophie commands. They're standing in a room near the back of the house. All the furniture has been pressed against the walls and the lights are out, the only illumination coming from the dozens of candles Sophie had lit with her mind just a few moments ago. Somebody has drawn symbols across the ground with what looks like ash. Caroline and Sophie are in the middle with Elena, Stefan, and Damon on one side of the room and Klaus and Rebekah on the other.

"I'm not sure how Bonnie will want to play this," Sophie continues, "She might want to present herself to all of us or just you. Make sure to take notes." With that Sophie begins chanting, her voice turning booming and powerful.

Caroline isn't sure exactly when it happens, only that in one instant she is holding onto Sophie and in the next she feels like she is being pulled backwards. She loses her grip and stumbles away, the flames of the candles explode, filling the room with blind light. She is the only one moving, the others seemed to have frozen. She can no longer hear Sophie chanting.

"Hey Care."

She whirls, Bonnie stands in front of her, still in the dress she'd worn on graduation, still suspended at eighteen. "Bonnie," Caroline's voice cracks, "It's so good to see you. I can't- I can't believe I'm seeing you."

She expects the same reaction. Hadn't Bonnie missed her too? But instead Bonnie surveys the room. Caroline can't make out the details of her friends anymore, just their outline. She only sees Bonnie in crystal clarity, and what she sees makes her instantly suspicious. "Strange group you've got here," Bonnie observes, but her voice doesn't hold the usual contempt. It is just a statement.

"Can they see us?" Caroline asks, wishing Elena was here, if she could immediately see the differences in Bonnie too.

"No," Bonnie shakes her head, "They can't hear us either. You've fallen to the floor, your eyes are open but you can't see and you can't hear." For the first time emotion flashes across Bonnie's face. It's amusement, and it's vindictive, "They're freaking out a little."

"Matt's missing," Caroline whispers. She doesn't know what else to say, what will make Bonnie act like the girl she had loved, the girl she had trusted with her life over and over.

"I know," Bonnie nods.

"We need your help," Caroline points out, as if it isn't obvious.

"I know," Bonnie nods again.

Something inside Caroline snaps, and her tone becomes annoyed, "Okay well then do you maybe want to say something helpful instead of just giving me dead eyes and nodding a lot?"

"We both know what Silas wants," Bonnie replies, her voice still empty, like they're not talking about life and death, "but I can't give it to him Care. If I come back he'll force me to help him, to create another cure. I can't destroy the world, not even for Matt."

"Is he still alive?" Her voice has lost its heat. She sounds like a little girl.

Bonnie looks down, and for a horrible second Caroline thinks she might hear exactly what she doesn't want to. "Yes," Bonnie admits, and her voice is soft too.

"Then just tell me where he is," Caroline surges forward, trying to grab Bonnie by the shoulders, "I know we can't drop the veil, but we can find Matt. I need you to tell me where he is Bonnie." She reaches for her friend, but it is like trying to grip at smoke. She realizes Bonnie belongs more to the other side then the human side now and it's obviously not just in the physical sense.

"You could die," Bonnie argues, and then she tilts her head, "And what about after? You've walked right into the lion's den Care, do you think he'll let you just walk away?"

"Silas?" Caroline asks, even though she knows that's not who Bonnie's talking about.

"Silas will follow you after you leave. Klaus will try to keep you. You know he will."

"I'm already here Bonnie. I made my choice. Tell me where he is," Caroline begs once again.

"He's close by Caroline, but so am I. I am so close to convincing Quetsiyah to empower me. With her help I could destroy Silas forever. I wouldn't have to touch the veil. Matt might be the final straw-"

"What?" Caroline stumbles back. This can't be happening. She'd been so sure Bonnie would be there salvation, that she would want to help, but this person isn't Bonnie. Not the Bonnie who'd helped her save Stefan, who'd told her to run, and kept her safe from Klaus' summoning and searching. "Bonnie this is Matt we're talking about. We've known him since we were five. He's not a straw or a bargaining chip or whatever. And I highly doubt that if three massacres didn't convince your bitchy ancestor that Silas is bad new that the death of our best friend will."

Bonnie's expression remains placid. She explains like she is talking to a child, "I'm linked with my ancestors here Caroline. The whole line of Bennett witches. Quetsiyah. They feel what I feel, my anger, my despair-"

"Great well then get them to feel your resolve. Matt can't die Bonnie, you have to let us save him."

"Silas can't live Caroline. I've allowed this to go on too long, something like this was bound to happen."

"Not Matt-" Caroline insists. She wants to tear out her hair. This is even more frustrating then her conversation with Klaus. At least he could goaded, he could be convinced. Talking to Bonnie, or whatever this is right now, is like talking to a brick wall.

"I can't risk losing all of you, not when I'm so close," Bonnie shakes her head, "Stay in New Orleans Caroline, you'll be safe here. Convince the others. Soon I'll end this. Matt won't die in vain."

Caroline's eyes blaze. She wants to hit something, to scream. Instead she asks this ghost, this imitation of her best friend who had believe in free will and bravery, "What have they done to you?"

"I'm sorry," Bonnie whispers, and the candles all go out at once with a loud crack and plunge the room into darkness.

* * *

She awakens with a gasp, rearing up into a sitting position and almost cracking heads with Stefan, who is kneeling by her hair. Elena is on her knees by Caroline's waist and Klaus hovers next to Sophie by her feet. He has had to be assured three times in the last two minutes that this is all apart of the process. "Caroline," Elena grabs her face and forces the blonde to look in her eyes, to realize that she is back amongst the living, "You're okay now."

Rebekah pushes past her brother and his witch. She'd been standing off to the side with Damon as Caroline made a spectacle of herself, but now she is concerned, now Caroline has her full attention, "What happened? What she'd say?"

Caroline doesn't look away from Elena. She can't bear to see Rebekah's face, not the anger or the despair. "She's not going to help," Caroline explains, and Elena's eyes widen, "She's linked to all of her ancestors, and she thinks that soon she'll be able to stop Silas on her own. Until then she doesn't want us to risk our lives." Elena's looking over her shoulder at Damon by now and Caroline can't help it, her gaze slips to Klaus when she admits, "She said we should stay in New Orleans. Stay safe." She turns back to Elena when she finishes, "She said she was sorry."

Elena releases her, leaning back on her heels and biting her lip before deciding, "I'll try then. I can convince-"

Caroline shakes her head, "No Elena, it won't work. She's changed, she's not- she's not the person we knew. It was like talking to a pod person." She swallows hard to keep her voice from cracking. Matt wasn't dead yet but Bonnie was.

"So that's it then?" Rebekah murmurs, she needs to sit. The urge to break things, to break people, will come soon but right now she feels like the world is spinning too fast. She had wracked her brain for plans and Bonnie Bennett had been the only one, "Did she even know if he was alive." Rebekah's voice cracks and Caroline winces, but then, like a jolt of lightening she comes to a realization.

Her next moves are very deliberate. She turns to Rebekah, holding the fellow blonde in her gaze. She can only hope Rebekah is thinking clearly. "He's alive and he's close by," Caroline explains, and then she glances at Sophie.

It takes Rebekah only a split second. "Which means he's trackable," she concludes, and then the witch feels the weight of both Caroline and Rebekah's appraising stares. She takes a step back and hates herself for it. She had promised herself pregnancy wouldn't change her.

Klaus spine goes rigid, "Absolutely not." They'll not be endangering his witch because there's didn't work out.

But the girls, his sister and his- well his Caroline, are devious things and they're both moving before he can finish his command. "Play defense," Caroline hisses at Rebekah, hoping that her years with Matt will give her some knowledge of what that means.

Apparently Rebekah does understand, because she turns immediately and flies at her brother, grabbing for his arms. Caroline meanwhile is on her feet, leaving her stunned friends to watch as she approaches Sophie, who moves backwards in equal time. Her face is full vampire and she walks like a predator, her vision going red. This girl will cooperate. This girl will behave. It doesn't matter if she's Klaus witch or if her baby's heart is a fragile thing, this girl is going to help her find Matt no matter the cost.

Sophie juts her chin out defiantly as her back hits the wall, "You don't need to intimidate me. If you friend's close by he won't take that much effort to track, certainly not enough to endanger my baby." Her voice is loud enough to be heard across the room, and suddenly the snarling of the original siblings stops. Caroline hazards a glance over her shoulder and finds that Klaus has Rebekah pinned to a wall by her neck. He's not squeezing though, in fact both of them seem to have lost interest in their fight and are looking at Sophie, "I'll be fine boss."

A beat of silence passes and then behind her Caroline feels Sophie kick off the wall. Then the witch is whispering in her ear, low again so only they can hear each other, "Tell me Caroline, does it truly bother you that he's protective of me as well or are you just a petty person?"

Caroline turns back, her face impassive. She wants Sophie to see that she's mistaken, that trying to bait her through Klaus will never work, "Everything about this situation bothers me, including you." She smirks dangerously as the insult leaves her mouth, "I thought witches were supposed to be loyal to their own kind."

Sophie's jaw clenches and Caroline can see that her slight has landed. The unflappable Sophie, with her knowing smiles and amused eyes now has her fisted clenched at her sides. "You have no idea what sacrifices I have made for my own kind," Sophie hisses.

"And I don't really care," Caroline snaps back, she can feel them watching her. Her voice has raised and they can most certainly hear her, hear the edge in her voice as she glares murderously at a pregnant woman, "Just get to work."

She can't stay in this room anymore, not when Sophie is standing between her and the wall she wants to punch a hole in. She turns towards the door. She can only force herself to look at her friends. Stefan who is incredulous, Elena who is aghast, and Damon who is obviously impressed. She won't look at the Mikaelsons. She doesn't care about Rebekah but she knows the look he'd regard her with.

_We're the same._

He'd said it to her once but she'd never believed him. She was a vampire but she wasn't like him. She had honor and decency and integrity. She had boundaries.

Except when she didn't. Except when it came to someone she loved. She'd killed for Bonnie and now she'd born down on a pregnant witch for Matt. She wanted what she wanted and she was prepared to do innocent people violence to get it. In those moments she had been more animal then human. She would cross any boundary, decency be damned.

She can't watch him be smug about it, she can't look at him at all or be in his house right now. She blurs from the room. She blurs from the house. Rebekah will make sure they get Matt's location. She'll go back and fight with her friends, but right now she needs to calm down. She needs a drink.

**Gonna be honest guys I didn't really get a great read on Sophie during The Originals pilot so I kind of just wrote her like I wanted to, hope you didn't mind. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the long wait, for some reason this chapter was hard for me to get out. I hope to have the next part up soon. We're about to get into some serious action. **

**Chapter 7**

She can't feel her mouth. Not her tongue or her teeth or her lips. Her fingertips are starting to get numb as well. Can vampires get alcohol poisoning? She doubts it. You need to have a working heart in order to be poisoned.

She'd stopped at a store before she'd hit the bars and had bought a different top and a purse to put her old one in. Well not bought exactly, but the man who'd done her the favor didn't seem to mind. Compelling him made Caroline feel even worse but she couldn't exactly go clubbing in a ratty gray T. She had no doubt Klaus and her friends would come looking for her, and if she wore that she'd stick out like a sore thumb.

Her new blouse is red, ruffled, and cleavage bearing, perfect for a night on the town. She quickly got lost in the chaos of Bourbon St., stopping at only the most crowded places to grab a drink. She's somehow adopted by a group of drunken girls who drag her along to some place with screaming techno music and strobe lights. They drink vodka out of neon colored test tubes and dance in a sea of people. '

Currently the name of the game is body shots.

It's just about to be her turn when she spots him across the room. It figures he'd be the one to find her. He does supposedly own the city after all. Fuck it, she decides as he stalks towards her, let him watch. The crowd in the middle of the room should keep him occupied long enough for her to have a little fun.

Unless of course he decides to just cut a bloody swath across the dance floor. She highly doubts he will though as he's no longer the Mystic Falls wildcard. He has to be diplomatic now, at least in public. Crazy on the inside but a charismatic liar on the outside, how had she never figured that he'd make a great politician?

One of the cuter boys that's been flirting her and the other girls for the better part of an hour steps forward, his neck bared and a smirk forming on his lips. She licks a line across his pulse point, forcing herself not to linger, and then salts it. One of the girls, Annabel she thinks, hands her the tequila. He's getting close now and she toast him over the boy's shoulder before returning her tongue to the boy's neck and licking up her handy work. She does her shot and then pulls the lime out of his mouth in an almost kiss.

She sucks out the juice and then drops the peel into her hand, and she can feel the stupid grin forming on her mouth as the alcohol burns her throat on the way down. The guy hasn't moved away from her, if anything he's gotten even closer. She's sitting on top of the bar and he's pressing up against her legs. His hands have come up to grip her knees and his head tilts so he can whisper in her ear, "Your turn."

He's blocked her view. She can't see if Klaus is still approaching. Maybe he'd never been there to begin with. She is very drunk after all. She presses her hands flat against the bar top and leans back with a smile, offering her own neck to this stranger, "Fair's fair."

"If only life were so black and white love," Klaus whispers against her cheek, and she actually has to stop herself from screaming in shock. She's sitting on the bar. How could he possibly be behind her?

He definitely is though, because a second later his hands clamp down on her waist and drag her backwards. Her back presses against his chest and she almost kicks the guy who'd been about to do a body shot off her as she flails. Not exactly her most graceful moment and unfortunately she's pretty sure when she tilts her head up to glare at him the message is undercut by the way she's clinging to his arm for support.

No one behind the busy bar acknowledges him and the scene he's created. That's right he's in charge of the town, The King of Sin. She keeps forgetting. Plus her head is buzzing and everything is beginning to feel like a dream. Though she'd never actually admit to having dreams that feature Klaus. She's still holding his arm and she doesn't know why.

She is endlessly grateful when body shot guy doesn't get territorial, because she's positive Klaus has had his fill of diplomacy. Even with the dim lighting and the strobes she can see that his eyes are black and his face is drawn. She keeps her grip on him, not because it would make a difference if he wanted to lunge over the bar top and behead someone, but because it sends a message. She's not running away. She'll leave willingly and with him.

He doesn't relax but he doesn't immediately try anything violent either. Body shot guy lifts his hands up and defers to Klaus, "Sorry man, didn't know she was taken." Then he turns back to Caroline and scolds her amusedly, "Shoulda told me you boyfriend was the bartender."

She can't help smirking and glancing back up at him, because the idea that someone thinks Klaus is a bartender is too funny. "He's not the bartender," she corrects. "He's-" she breaks and tilts her head up, because her drunken mind is so curious as to his official title. Does he have one? Do people call him something in that bar of his other then 'boss'. "What do you call yourself? The Dark Knight? His Highness?"

His eyes flash and he holds out his free arm, showing her the path towards a backdoor, "Call me the guy's whose going to burn this place to the ground if you don't start walking."

The smile drops from her face. She hasn't been ordered around in a decade and a half. It's not like she can say no without risking the lives of the entire establishment but she's not going without a little bit of a fuck you. She grabs the first container of liquor she sees and gives him her most sardonic glare, "Fine." Then without further ado she marches out into some dark alley with her back to Klaus.

* * *

She doesn't know how long they walk in silence. Her legs are wobbly and her head is buzzing and she's still holding onto his arm for stability. He doesn't seem to mind though. He pulls her around the crowds like a rag doll and she allows it because she really doesn't feel like she wants to stop drinking. She grabbed some sort of Russian vodka and it tastes cheap but also like cherries and beggars stuck with Klaus for the night certainly can't be choosers.

The bottle is half empty and she tips her head back to take another swallow. They're in a less crowded section of the city now and she probably looks ridiculously classless stumbling around with a bottle but she doesn't care. She doesn't care about anything. She can't because then she'd be at risk of caring too much, of caring what he thinks and what he'll say and if seeing this side of her will finally make her lose her appeal.

All her thinking makes her swallow the vodka wrong and she gags, coughs, and almost drops the bottle. She has to stop walking and he scowls as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. He yanks the bottle of her hands, "Enough." She makes a face and reaches for the bottle, but he takes a step back and lets it drop from his hands. She would have been able to catch it six shots ago, but in her current state she can only watch it as it shatters on the cobblestone. He looks up at her without a hint of sympathy and appraises, "Acting childish doesn't suit you."

She crosses her arms over her chest and tries her best to look sober and pissed off. She misses walking though, and him helping her walk, because now her whole body is starting to feel like it's made of cotton. "It's not being childish, I'm having fun. Figures you wouldn't know the difference," she says it without more contempt then she meant too, but he doesn't take offense.

"Fun makes you happy," he argues calmly, "I've seen you happy before love, and this is not what it looked like." She smiles when she's having fun. She does that thing girls do where they jump up and down. When Caroline's having fun the room lights up. She doesn't guzzle alcohol from a bottle and look like she's on the verge of tears.

"It's been awhile," she retorts with a sigh, deflating.

He smiles, "Since you had fun?"

She throws her hands up in the air, because he knows what she's talking about. He knows exactly why they're in this situation and he just wants to make her crazy, "Since I felt like this. Like I need to take a thousand showers before I'll be myself again," she calms down, crossing her arms over her chest again and looking away from him as she explains softly, "A vodka IV was necessary in order to mellow out. The edge has officially been taken off."

At this he seems to deflate as well. He steps back towards her and places his hands precisely on her shoulders, his palms cover them completely, his thumbs brush her neck. It reminds him that even when she's like she is such a delicate thing. "You didn't even touch her sweetheart," he reminds.

"That's not the point," she sighs, and it's only now that she tilts her head up to look at him, finishing with a miserable whisper, "I would have." She hates this feeling. This knowledge she has of herself, that she must have so she knows without a shadow of a doubt what she's capable of. That's something Stefan taught her, because if you always know what you're capable of you can figure out exactly how to stop yourself. Stefan avoids. He helps and heals and stays away from human blood. Caroline tries to reason, she tries to plan and subvert and make things happen by any other means. Tonight there hadn't been anything left to do. She'd gotten to a point, stood on the line, and been about five seconds away from crossing it. She knows this. She knows that for Matt she could be capable of anything, and it makes her miserable.

He doesn't flinch. He doesn't look effected by the revelation at all, but that shouldn't surprise her. Klaus doesn't care about her boundaries. "I'm well aware of the lengths to which you will go to aid your friends," he points out, and there it is again. She has a pattern. She has a tell a mile wide. She loves like an idiot, like a maniac. Sometimes she doesn't know what's worse, to feel nothing or to feel so much it makes you ache, makes you physically ill with worry and anxiety and wanting.

He smiles at her. It's reassuring, there's no placation or condescension and for a minute she forgets her downward spiral, "I wouldn't have allowed you to harm Sophie."

"You would have had to hurt me in order to stop me," she observes softly, and hadn't he said years ago that he never would? At least not physically. He'd break her heart in a million unique ways but he'd never physically harm her.

"Not in a permanent way," he replies and when this doesn't have the desired effect, when instead of looking reassured she purses her lip and looks even more unhappy he scowls. "Must you be so hard on yourself?" his voice has lost its softness. She is so frustrating, stubbornly clinging to these conventions that no longer apply to her.

"When I do bad things I feel badly," she mumbles, and though he's still holding her shoulders, forcing proximity, she turns her face away. He won't understand and she doesn't care if he does or not. This is her internal struggle, and it doesn't matter if it bothers him. She will always feel bad, because at least if she does it means she's different from him and his sister. At least it means she has a conscience and she was a person, a person who was raised by a mother who knew right from wrong and taught her daughter to be good.

"You hold only yourself to an impossible standard," he snarls back, and one of his hands moves from her shoulder to her neck, forcing her to look at him. It is just a squeeze away from hurting but she doesn't even pretend to be scared, "How many bodies did you clean up for Stefan? And Elena Gilbert? I see you've forgiven and forgotten her little soulless tirade. Did anyone afford you the same luxury after your mother passed?" She doesn't flinch or answer his question but he knows already, and anyway her eyes give her away. They flash defensively just like they always do when he dares to question one of her idiot friends.

"No I didn't think so," he remarks and she scowls. He looks down at her for a beat. He wishes he were better at this. He wishes it were as easy as it is with her idiot friends. The way she is just so casual and trusting and assured. To them she practically gives her love away for free, and yet he can barely coax out a smile.

He's found that girls like her barely exist anymore, girls with unshakable principles, who lay roots in soil as inconsistent as sand and keep loving people who have shown her their worst parts. He leans forward until his forehead presses against hers, until he can make every detail in her blue eyes. "You're not a human anymore Caroline," he concludes, releasing her with a frustrated sigh.

It's exactly what she doesn't want to hear, but somehow it doesn't faze her like it should. He's trying, really trying to make her feel better, even though he doesn't have the slightest clue as to the how or even the why. It actually makes her smile thinking about it, because who knew she would have to have a break with her humanity in order to bring out some of his?

She runs a hand through her hair and decides to end the discussion with a definitive, "I'm not a monster either."

He grins at this, "Figures I wouldn't know the difference right love?"

She smiles back at him, the tension breaking. She sticks both her hands in her back pockets and tilts her head at him, "Are they worried?" She remembers her friends in a rush. At least Stefan and Elena will be worried.

At this he scoffs and regards her dubiously. Of course she'd ask about them. "They're fine," he replies, and then to add a bit of levity, "I think you managed to break up some of the over wrought tension actually. Stefan and Elena are united in their concern for you if nothing else."

She grins at that, taking his arm and dragging him along as she starts to walk again. "They have a lot more in common then that," she replies, and it's grumpier then she'd meant. She's just still so firmly on Team Stefan.

His eyebrows raise and this small, knowing smile appears across his face, "You'd prefer they were together?"

She makes a face at him, "Duh."

"No designs on keeping Stefan for yourself then?" he hedges.

"Oh smooth," she snorts, but then shakes her head and decides to clarify, "I need Stefan. I don't want him." To her it seems like the simplest thing in the world.

His eyebrows furrow at the statement, "What a confusing distinction." They step over a curb and she just barely manages "We should get you back to the house sweetheart."

She takes a deep breath. She should go back, at least so that her friends know that she's alright, but even thinking about it makes her anxious. She's still drunk and useless and she needs just a few more hours. "I can't go back yet," she decides, and when he doesn't immediately answer she tilts her head up and squints at him, "Come on this is supposed to be your city." The implication is clear. She wants him to her somewhere.

She's not going to think about what a potentially bad idea this is. The sun will be up soon and she doubts there's much damage that can be done in that amount of time.

His eyes glint, "As you wish."

* * *

"Have you found her?" Damon asks, his tone bored. He's laying on one of the overstuffed couches in the Mikaelson's sitting room. He, Rebekah, and the witch are the only ones left in the house. Klaus made sure Sophie was alright and given Rebekah strict instructions not to harm her before blurring after Caroline. Stefan and Elena left almost immediately after to try and find her first. He'd decided to stay with Rebekah, not that Stefan or Elena had exactly invited him on their little rescue mission.

Rebekah glances up from the table she and Sophie have commandeered in the far corner of the room. Sophie's sitting across from her and glaring down at a map. They've been at this for hours and each time Sophie manages to narrow down the circle and gets them closer to Matt's location Rebekah gets a little bit more unbearable. Which hadn't seemed possible since she was already totally insufferable yesterday. He's turning it into a drinking game, every time Rebekah says something rude to Sophie he takes a shot. He's well on his way to wasted.

Currently she's focusing her ire on him and his phone conversation with Elena. "I don't know why they insisted upon looking. My brother has people in every single business in this city. If she's with anyone she's with him," Rebekah sneers before going back to the map.

"My girlfriend's a fan of lost causes," Damon replies lazily before concentrating on his cellphone again, "Elena just come back to the house. She'll be back eventually. She's not going to give up on Matt after she almost threw down with a pregnant chick over him."

"I'm not just gonna sit around and wait for her to calm down," Elena explains as she weaves through the crowd on Bourbon Street, "She needs to talk to someone and I'd rather it be me or Stefan then Klaus."

"Yeah but it's not going to be you," Damon points out, flailing his hands up in the air exasperatedly even though she's not around to see him, "It's going to be the guy whose been waiting fifteen years to get her alone, and from how tightly wound she's been seeming it's clear she could use it." His eyebrows waggle and Rebekah snorts despite herself. The idea of her brother and Caroline Forbes is…beyond nauseating, but perhaps it would make her brother a tinge more bearable.

Instead of accepting his logic, because really when has that ever happened, Elena sighs, "I'm hanging up now."

"I love you," Damon replies. It's the way they end conversations now, and when he says it's a little bit of a habit and a little bit of a test.

Elena glances at Stefan, they've been walking in uncomfortable silence for the better part of three hours. She's not about to make it worse. "Me too," she mumbles, and when she hangs up she can picture the exact incredulous face he's making at the phone right now.

Stefan glances at her and she crosses her arms over her chest. "Lets keep walking," she mutters as they continue to aimlessly amble through a sea of drunken people.

Eventually, when they hit a spot that isn't blaring deafening pop music Elena turns and asks her ex boyfriend, "Are you as worried as I am?"

"Caroline can hold her own in a fight," Stefan replies nonchalantly. He doesn't really want to have a heart to heart with Elena over this. He just wants to get Caroline away from Klaus.

"You know that's not what I mean," Elena replies, "Come on Stefan I heard you guys in the kitchen. I know that this whole Klaus situation bothers you too."

"I'm not the one who brought her here Elena," he replies levelly and without looking at her.

She remembers suddenly what he told her all those years ago 'you don't know what I look like when I'm not in love with you.' It's a habit though, assuming she has his loyalty, his love. And even though it's been so long since it was true, even though she knows it's all her fault, it still hurts to have it thrown in her face. "Ouch," she whispers.

"Sorry," he relents after a beat of silence, "I know you were just thinking about Jeremy."

The problem with Elena, the way he'll never be able to hate her or even dislike her, is that it's almost never totally her fault, and even when it is she tries to make up for it. Albeit in stupid, sometimes even suicidal ways, but still. She loves Caroline and she doesn't want to see her hurt, she just loves Jeremy more.

Elena swallows hard and shakes her head "No you're right," she admits, "Maybe that's why I feel so anxious, because if she gets herself into trouble with Klaus it'll be my fault."

"If she gets herself into trouble with Klaus it'll be her choice," Stefan corrects, "And none of us will be able to judge her with our track records. I'm just worried she's not in the right frame of mind to be making any choices." When his ex girlfriend just stares at him blankly he elaborates, "She's lonely Elena, can't you see?"

He'd hoped that when she went away with Tyler she'd find happiness, that against odds and history they'd be able to make it work. She'd gotten sadder through the years and by the end it was almost a relief when she left him. She was happy alone for a long time too. It had just been the last year or so that her old weariness had begun to creep in, when she no longer sounded like the Caroline that was so peppy it made his teeth hurt. Like so many vampires who wandered alone she was losing herself.

"And he can offer her the world," Elena points out solemnly.

Stefan furrows his brow, because it's not that simple. Despite what people think about Caroline he knows her love can't be earned with pretty things or expensive trips. If it were that easy they'd have lost her to Klaus two decades ago. "I don't think Klaus knows what to offer Caroline," he argues, "but I know that he's a master at exploiting weaknesses and she's more vulnerable now then she's ever been."

Elena bites her lip in thought, "I don't know if we're giving her enough credit though. Caroline's always had an annoying amount of self control."

"Yeah but if there's one thing we both understand," Stefan points out, "it's that someone can only be in control for so long. Eventually everyone lets go."

* * *

They sit and watch the sun rise over the west bank of the Mississippi River. She wears a paper hat from Café Du Monde and sips piping hot black coffee mixed with chicory. Every so often she picks at the beignet he bought her in its wax paper wrapper and gets powdered sugar all over her fingers and the fabric of her jeans.

She doesn't know why but it feels so weird to have him draped over the park bench sitting next to her. To no one else does he look out of place amongst the early bird tourists and the mothers pushing their babies in strollers but she has to do a double take every time someone normal passes him without a second glance. It's just like the guy in the bar who'd though he was working there. The idea that Klaus can be innocuous, just another face in the crowd, is the most ridiculous thought she's ever had.

The beignet is fantastic and she knows she should thank him for it. Manners are important even in the most straining situations. She looks at him before she takes a sip of her coffee, "Thanks for taking me somewhere that didn't involve a champagne fountain and top hats."

He smiles up at the sky, "Neither of us is quite in the appropriate condition. Besides after your scathing comment about my home last night I'm not sure which way to impress you anymore."

"I'm not that complicated," she replies with a shrug, licking sugar off her fingertips. She's really not. It doesn't take that much to make her happy. It just requires a basic understanding of human emotion, something Klaus hasn't been able to grasp in centuries, if he ever could.

He looks at her incredulously from the corner of his eye, "Oh we've been on such a great streak of honesty tonight love, let's not start lying to each other now."

"Okay be honest then," she replies challengingly, angling her body to face him and smirking, "when was the last time you took someone to breakfast?"

"Hmmm," he lays the back of his head against the bench and closes his eyes in mock thought. He's long since lost track of the girls but he's positive none of them were afforded the effort of breakfast. "Elijah and I go to a diner almost every Saturday," she snorts at this and he adds, "Rebekah certainly required breakfast during her visit. She's about as high maintenance as they come."

"You and Elijah in a diner," she squints, "There's something I can't picture."

She's teasing him and he decides to reciprocate. His hand raises and he flicks the paper hat that's perched on the crown of her head, Café Du Monde is written in looping green scrawl on the side, "I couldn't picture you in that hat but you still chose to wear it."

"This hat?" she asks gamely, adjusting it slightly, "It's cute."

"It's made for children," he points out with a grin, "No adult was wearing one."

"That's twice today you've insulted my style," she observes in mock offense, "I can't help that I'm nostalgic and whimsical and you are just so serious." She lowers her voice at the end of the sentence in her best impression of her voice. She needs a little bit of levity with her breakfast. A new day has started, there's hope for Matt, and she knows for a fact he's not nearly as severe as he pretends to be.

"You look like a four year old," he counters. He likes this kind of conversation, when she's acting like herself and smiling in a way that makes him sure she is not just humoring him.

She sticks out her tongue at him, "Acting childish suits me just fine." His smile loses a little bit of its luster as she throws his words from the previous night back at him. They lapse into silence.

He's about to say something just so he can hear the sound of her voice again when he notices her eyes catch on something. A mother holding a little girl's hand across the street. The pair walks past and into a dress shop on the corner and Caroline suddenly looks much older then four, with one blink of her eyes she has aged decades.

He waits for her to speak. "When I was little my mother and I had this tradition. Every Sunday she would take me to the police station and I would get to eat breakfast there. This was before Mystic Falls turned into a hellscape so everyday at the station was slow then, but Sundays were the slowest. I would drive with her there and back in the squad car and get to eat doughnuts with her friends and at that age I thought it was the coolest thing."

He pictures her small, little blonde ringlets and big blue eyes peeking over the edge of a police car's windowsill, weaving in between crowded desks and admiring shiny badges and empty weapon holsters. She would have been curious and probably a bit of a know it all. She would have liked going there and feeling important, feeling special. "Why'd you stop?" he asks, and it is more then about hearing her voice. He genuinely wants to know. He wants to know everything. He has to know everything.

"She became the Sheriff and got busier," Caroline explains with this little bitter laugh, "And I became a teenager and stopped wanting to be seen with her in public." She looks at him with a serious, painfully open face of hers and adds, "I'm just saying that I think it's nice that like a thousand years later you still take your brother to breakfast."

But that's not what she's saying, that's not what she wants to say, and for once he is perceptive enough to understand her. He pushes slightly, "Your mother was a very good woman Caroline." Her eyes flash and her lazy grip on the park bench turns stiff "Very brave," he adds, "She loved you."

"Don't," she whispers, and he remembers another lifetime at a dance when he'd asked about her father. She'd been harsher then, there'd been no yield in her. This time is different, and again he waits.

"I never got to go to her funeral," she says eventually, so quiet it nearly gets lost in the air. She knows she shouldn't be saying this, confiding this. It's too much. She was vulnerable last night. She is vulnerable now. She's being stupid and the worst part is that she knows it.

The problem is her mother is a subject she can't even discuss with Stefan. They can't talk about it because it's Stefan's fault. Not her mother's murder, that was all on Silas the random doppleganger, but the aftermath. Stefan is the reason she didn't get to go to the funeral. Stefan needed her. Stefan would still be ripping his way through the Rocky Mountains if she hadn't kept on his heels and she can't throw that in his face. She won't. But she needs to talk to someone about it, and in her mind Klaus barely counts.

"I know love," is his soft reply.

"I think that's why I dream about her. The last memory I have is of her-" she swallows hard, it's difficult to say even now, "Of her being killed. I never got to say goodbye." She looks down at her hands, waiting for him to put his foot in his mouth so she can be mad and forget this moment ever happened.

He doesn't answer though, not for a long time. He's silent for so long actually that she assumes it _is_ his answer. This is what she gets for trying to discuss emotions and parents with Klaus. His father had beheaded his favorite horse and his mother had tried to murder all her children at once. She really should know better by now.

And then he says abruptly, "The service was beautiful."

Her head shoots up and she squints at him, "What?"

"The service was beautiful," he repeats, meeting her gaze, "Many people spoke very highly of your mother. Her deputy and his wife organized the service in your absence. It was held in that little white church on the edge of town."

She feels like he just smacked her in the face. And honestly that would be more believable then what he's trying to tell her. Because there's no way, there is just no way-

But she knows her mother's will. She knows it because they'd gone over it together on more then one occasion. Mystic Falls didn't afford many people illusions about safety. Her mother was the town Sheriff and Caroline was forced at a young age to be realistic about her possible death. She knows the plan by heart.

"First Congregational," she whispers to herself. They'd only gone to church on Christmas, but always to the same one because her mother liked the songs and Caroline the big white candles they lit in the windows. First Congregational is one of six churches in Mystic Falls and he wouldn't guess. Not even he is reckless and impulsive enough to make something like this up. "Are you saying that you-" she starts, and finds she can't finish.

"I thought you'd be there love," he says by way of an explanation. He'd expected to find her heartbroken, surrounded by a gaggle of her friends. Instead he'd sat in the back row and wondered the whole time where in the hell she was.

He remembers it all though. He holds up his hands palms up and offers, "I could show you."

Her head is racing, but she doesn't hesitate. It's giving him access to her mind, but some things are worth the risk. Her hands come down on his with a dull thud, "Yes."

The whole thing starts off grainy, like one of those old movies she used to watch on rainy days. The church is packed with only a few seats available in the back row. She recognizes everyone. He doesn't approach the coffin, but it doesn't matter because it's closed and surrounded by huge arrangements of lilies. They'd gotten them mostly right, although the vases in the front could be fuller. Someone had placed daffodils on the coffin's lid when she knows she's dictated red roses.

Some pastor does a reading about her mother and she hates it. He didn't know her and it's obvious. She could have written a better speech in her sleep. But then he goes away and people begin to speak at the altar. People who spent time with her and knew her and really, really love her. She hangs on every word, not caring if it's made up, if he's filling in the holes in his memory or not, because it's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for her, the most spectacular thing she's ever seen in her life.

Eventually the speeches stop and people begin to file out of the church. She counts each and every face. She can tell this is going to end soon. He won't go the burial and she wants to remember every detail before it stops. He weaves through the crowd and heads for his car, and everything fades to black.

She blinks back into the morning light. She doesn't know when she'd started to cry, only that he's watching intently as the tears fall down her cheeks and drop off her chin. He looks perplexed. "I've upset you again," he observes.

She wipes her eyes and smiles as she does it. "No, no you haven't. Not at all," she shakes her head. She actually starts to laugh, and then she rises from the bench and looks back at him. "Stand up," she commands.

He looks at her funny, like he doesn't know if he's about to be thanked or punished, "Excuse me?"

"Stand up please," she repeats, and she's still smiling. He stands slowly, and she takes a step forward so they are only about an inch apart. Then she stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispers in his ear.

She rests her chin on his shoulder and holds her position. She tries not to think about how this is the closest they've ever been without music playing. She tries not to think about him in a suit walking back into a town that held nothing but bad memories just to lay a flower on her mother's grave. Coming back to the place where two of his brothers had died, where they'd killed him, because he thought she might need the company.

"My pleasure sweetheart," he whispers back.

She doesn't pull away for a long time. His hands hover at her waist nervously in the most charming of ways. He doesn't make it awkward or take advantage of this vulnerable moment. He doesn't say a word.

When she pulls away she's finally stopped crying, but the wetness till lingers around her eyes. She uses her thumbs to wipe it away as he watches her. His face is blank but his eyes are on fire. She wonders how she could be in the arms of someone whose hurt so many but not for a second feel unsafe. All she knows for sure is she needs to get out of this situation before anything else is revealed. She needs to go somewhere and be with people who will make this warm feeling in the pit of her stomach disappear.

"We can go back now," she decides in a whisper.

* * *

"Who is she?" Marcel squints at the two figures sitting on the park bench. He's across the river and a block to the right. He only catches sight of them through the crowd on his end every so often, but what he is able to see is quite curious.

"Her name's Caroline Forbes," Katherine purrs in his ear, "I turned her a little over fifteen years ago and I've regretted it ever since."

Once again she's hiding in her bathroom pretending to be starting one of her notoriously long showers. She finds it rather insulting that Klaus has become so lax in appointing clever guards to watch over her. The hybrids that constantly follow her now couldn't predict the next move of a box of rocks. She might have grown less physically intimidating when her humanity was returned to her, but she's certainly not docile.

"No," Marcel corrects, as he catches sight of them again. They're talking, and his former mentor is looking at this blonde like she's something fascinating, "who is she to him?"

"For some reason Klaus has loved her basically since they met," Katherine smiles acidly as steam begins to fill up the bathroom, "It's one of those unsolvable mysteries."

"Katherine this is something you have to be sure about," he reminds.

"I wouldn't have called you if I wasn't sure," Katherine snaps back, "Believe me this is an opportunity you don't want to miss."

"And why's that?" Marcel drawls, "If they're so in love she won't be able to stay away for long. I can sit around for another fifteen years. Perhaps he'll be losing his footing in the city by then."

"You may have another fifteen years but I don't," Katherine reminds, her fists clenching, "Besides you weren't listening, I said Klaus was in love with her. You see, stupid little Caroline thinks she's some sort of good guy. She and Klaus have never been on good terms. I don't know what she's doing here now but you can be sure she won't stay long."

Katherine pauses for a second. She has to get into the shower now or even her moronic handlers will get suspicious, "This is your one chance Marcel, don't fuck it up."

Across the river Klaus smiles at something pretty Caroline Forbes has said and Marcel stands. He's seen enough. There are plans to be made.

* * *

"You're back," Damon deadpans as Caroline appears in the living room doorway, "Thank God because I was so worried." He doesn't even give her the courtesy of looking up from his breakfast drink.

"Where are Elena and Stefan?" Caroline asks as she walks inside the room and collapses onto the couch opposite Damon's. Klaus had called them a car and they'd driven home in relative silence. He'd said something about his office as they walked into the house and then he'd disappeared.

"Out looking for you," Damon answers with a roll of his eyes, "They're frantic that you're going to fall into Klaus' immoral clutches." He snorts and takes a big gulp of his drink, "I told Elena that if it was going to happen it probably would have when you actually were seventeen." This time he does look at her, "Am I right?"

She makes a face at him, "We're so not having this conversation."

"Uh oh," Damon whispers, grinning at her knowingly.

"No, no uh oh," Caroline shakes her head as she scowls, "It's just, if you think I would ever confide in you any sort of personal details about my life you're even more delusional then I already knew you were."

"Ouch Blondie," Damon replies with a low whistle.

She rolls her eyes, "Yeah make a joke about claws or something Damon, but while you're doing it give me your phone."

Damon looks at her for a beat, not sure whether to be offended or impressed. There's a new side to Caroline Forbes, one that was only beginning to form when they'd been separated. He might actually like this version of her. He tosses her his phone.

She presses the speed dial and Elena answers on the second ring. "Elena, no Elena stop yelling it's me," Caroline begins as way of a hello, "I'm back at the house. He found me at a bar hours ago. No, I'm not anymore we went to breakfast. Just breakfast Elena he didn't get down on one knee or anything." Caroline squints up at the ceiling as she notices the background noise, "Oh are you at a Starbucks? Can you get me an iced coffee?"

"Are you serious?" Damon questions, annoyed, "So the rescue mission has turned into a coffee date?" Caroline ignores him as she notices Rebekah appear in the living room doorway.

She covers the cellphone receiver with her palm and asks the two of them, "Do you guys want anything?"

Damon shotguns his drink in response and Rebekah crosses her arms over her chest and sneers, "I want to smash that cellphone using your face."

Caroline ignores her too and instead answers Elena, "No one else wants anything. Yeah I love you too, of course I do. Are you okay? Oh Elena for God's sake you and Stefan need to calm down." She runs a hand over her face as Rebekah begins to tap her foot impatiently, "Hurry up okay? Rebekah's snarling which I'm assuming means she has news." Caroline hangs up the phone and tosses it back to Damon.

"Done with your tantrum little girl?" Rebekah asks as she saunters into the room, "It's not like there are other pressing matters that need attending to. It's not like we came here with any purpose in mind."

"Yeah and I've fulfilled all your purposes Rebekah, so I'd say that attitude is a little misplaced," Caroline snaps as she sits up on the couch, "Does she know where Matt is or not?"

Rebekah sits down on the arm of Caroline's couch. She stares at the wall, she stares at nothing in particular, and then she smiles.

"Yes."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

They wait until nightfall.

It is literal hell trying to convince Rebekah that this is the right course of action. Caroline knows because she watches people who actually care about Rebekah's desires and emotions try for the better part of an hour before she sets off in search of a bed. She's been awake for thirty six hours and she'll be useless to everyone if she doesn't get some sleep. She's lucky they're waiting. If they went now she'd probably be stuck as the getaway driver.

She stumbles into the first bedroom she finds but makes sure to check around a little because with her luck it's bound to be Klaus' master suite. There are two Queen beds though instead of some California king with disco ball and strobe light fixtures. She doesn't see any black hats lying around. No blood of the innocent dripping from the walls. Looks like her luck is returning. She actually managed to pick a guest room.

This is a minor victory that is of course squashed the second she relaxes into one of the heavenly soft beds. The door creaks open and someone walks in. "Go away," Caroline groans and pulls a pillow over her face.

The person instead crosses the room and crawls into bed with her. Which is just so in line with the day she's having. She stops herself from freaking out though, because she's pretty sure she knows who it is. There's only one person in the house with steps that light.

"Are you and Stefan going to take turns watching over me or something?" she groans from underneath her pillow shield. She's trying her best not to be annoyed by Elena's micromanagement. She's just trying to be a good friend after all, but it's taking all of Caroline's self control to point out that of the two of them Elena's the one who seems to have a problem with falling in love with killers. "Is that the new plan?"

"Like we could strategize with Rebekah threatening to burn the house down every other minute," Elena laughs to herself before taking a deep breath and snuggling into the covers, "Besides I'm tired too. I was out looking for you all night."

"You didn't have to," Caroline points out, flipping over onto her stomach, "I would have ended up fine if no one found me and I ended up fine even though Klaus did."

"Breakfast with Klaus?" Elena asks, and Caroline knows without looking that her friend's brow is furrowed, "It sounds like my nightmare."

Caroline takes a minute to decide if she's going to be honest, if she's going to give this piece of herself away to Elena. She lifts the pillow of her face, "Breakfast came with a show. Klaus um- he went to my mom's funeral."

Elena looks away from her and up at the ceiling as she decides how to make what she wants to say as diplomatic as possible, "Care, he could just be saying-"

"He showed it to me Elena," Caroline points out, knowing that's revealing a deeply personal choice. She'd allowed Klaus into her mind, let him project his thoughts into her head. It was just as bad as compulsion, maybe even worse, but she can't bring herself to care.

Maybe Elena's able to see that too, because she doesn't stop, "He's a thousand years old, we don't know what he's capable-"

"Please don't," Caroline interrupts suddenly, as a lump begins to form in her throat, "Not this. We can second guess him on everything else, not trust him ever, but please don't make me doubt this." She covers her hands with her face until she can speak again without her voice cracking, "Jacob Fell spoke, and Bonnie's dad, and my great Aunt Marta, you know the one with that awful snaggle tooth. They said the nicest things about her."

She waits for Elena to try and dissuade her again, to try and ruin this perfect memory, but to her relief her friend just sights, "Okay Care." Then after a pause Elena looks back at her with wide, clear eyes, "I know I shouldn't- that after everything- after what Damon did to you, after what I did to you-" Elena swallows, "I have no room to judge."

"There's nothing to judge," Caroline insists. All her friends seem almost eager to pair her with Klaus, like it's a terrible forgone conclusion that she'll grow weak in the knees just because some hot guy looks at her twice, "He did a nice thing, one nice thing in a sea of terrible things."

"I wouldn't blame you, if you felt something-" Elena tries again.

"I don't," Caroline interrupts flatly, hoping to end the conversation.

This time Elena doesn't get the hint. Instead she runs a hand through her hair and just continues as if Caroline hadn't spoken, "It would scare me, but it's not like it wouldn't make sense."

"Elena," Caroline groans, kicking her feet up in the air in a show of protest. She just wants to go to sleep.

"Caroline, I understand what it's like okay? Walking all night I finally understand that our situations are so similar," Elena continues to ramble, trying to get everything out before Caroline completely freaks out. It's important to say this, because she doesn't want Caroline to feel isolated, like she'd be letting all of them down. Caroline had staid her friend after she'd chosen Damon, maybe they hadn't been as close but Caroline had stuck around. She'd decided she would do the same.

"I'm not like you Elena okay?" Caroline interrupts once again, and this time she can't keep annoyance from seeping into her voice, "And Klaus and Damon, while both undeniable assholes, are nowhere close to in the same league."

Elena nods, "I'm not saying anything's going to happen, or that it should, because you know how I feel about Klaus, I'm just saying that I can't tell you not to feel for someone who is so clearly in love with you, who saves your life and treats you well and looks at you like you're the only person in the room. It's okay-"

"It's not," Caroline shouts, shaking her head, and for some reason she has to swallow yet another lump. She titles her chin to look Elena straight on and manages a smile, "But thank you for saying that."

Finished with her declaration Elena smiles back, "I really missed you Care." Caroline hopes that this could be the end of it, that they could just go to bed like she'd originally intended, but once again Elena's face darkens. It seems that since they haven't had time for emotional conversations for the last fifteen years Elena has to have them all in a row right this minute, "I know towards the end we weren't- I never really apologized for the things I said when I was soulless."

"Oh Elena of course I knew you were sorry," is Caroline's soft reply. She doesn't know what else to say. That part of their life seems like a million years ago. After everything else that's happened Elena's bitchy comments when she was out of her mind don't register at all on Caroline's things to give a shit about scale.

"It doesn't make it okay that I never apologized," Elena insists.

Caroline sits up, if they're doing this the least she can do is act invested. "I've killed people too Elena," Caroline replies calmly. Laying her hands on Elena's shoulders she breaks out into a knowing grin, "And hey, I was a soulless, shallow cheer captain for years and you were still my friend. I think I can get past you wishing I was dead for a few weeks. Especially since it happened fifteen freaking years ago."

Elena looks away, "It's only because you reminded me of my own weaknesses. You always have. You're controlled and you take care of other people instead of getting taken care of. You were a better vampire then I was and you staid away from Klaus, staid faithful to Tyler while I couldn't stay away from Damon, while I betrayed Stefan. With my emotions I can appreciate it, but without them it just made me crazy."

"I make myself crazy," Caroline argues self-effacingly, grinning despite the implication. She's poised, but it comes with a price, "A lot of the time I think I spent too much of high school obsessing over the wrong things, holing onto people I shouldn't have. I went psycho over the stupidest problems."

"We spent years living in the most stressful situations imaginable Care," Elena observes, "Everyday we were fighting for our lives. Everyday was important. All those moments with our friends? We'll never have those back. We'll never be those people again." Then Elena gets this dreamy look on her face, "But life isn't like it used to be. We don't have to be the people we used to be."

"But is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Caroline wonders aloud, her face screwing up in thought, "Sometimes I wish it was that simple again. As simple as a pretty prom dress and the perfect date."

"But even then it wasn't that simple. You know it wasn't," Elena retorts, pointing out the obvious. At prom Elena had been murderous and Caroline had only gotten to dance with her boyfriend because he risked his life to be with her.

It takes Caroline a long time to work up the nerve to ask, mostly because she's not sure she wants to know the answer. When she finally lets it slip she doesn't know why she sounds so sad, "Elena, are you happy?"

"Yes," Elena sighs, the answer as effortless as existing. Then she tilts her head so she can see Caroline's face when she asks, "Are you?"

Caroline fiddles with the bedspread, it's as soft as butter and hand embroidered. She tries to picture Klaus selecting delicate linens and it's yet another mundane contradiction to his persona. It should frighten her that he is capable of housing two different personalities within himself, but all it does is remind her that the last time she fell asleep it was him that was watching over her. Maybe life hasn't changed that much after all. Even fifteen years later she still has the capacity to be so stupid. "Most days," she answers eventually, in a voice that it is far too measured to be sincere. Then she flops onto her stomach and buries her face back into a pillow, "I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay," Elena replies, biting her lip, "Goodnight Caroline."

"Good morning Elena," Caroline chirps back, and then, to her immense satisfaction, she falls right to sleep.

* * *

The dreams come again. Dark and violent and all consuming. Silas, always wearing Stefan's face, taunts her as he stands over Matt's body. He promises to kill him in a dozen horrific and descriptive ways. He promises to make her watch. She tries to fight, to reach Matt, but someone is holding onto her, holding her back. His grip is like a vice, and even though she can't turn to see him she knows who it is.

Silas' hand reaches into Matt's chest again and again. She hears him sputter, plead, and the she hears him die. This happens over and over until it all begins to blur together. She cries, she sags and kicks, but still the suffocating grip remains around her.

When she finally jolts awake his face is all she sees. The pained expression on his mouth and the frustration in his eyes. His nose is only a few inches away from hers and she thinks for a moment that she might still be asleep. What kind of nightmare could this be? Has he gone from her protector to her attacker?

But then he sighs, and the emotions so clearly etched on his face slip away. "Wake up love," he orders softly, he straightens and she remembers to blink, "It's time to go."

"You're bloody hell right it is," Rebekah's voice cuts through the room like the sound of the gun. It doesn't help that she flicks on the overhead lamp, bathing them all in blinding light, "All of you up."

Caroline realizes immediately that how she fell asleep is not at all how she's woken up. Someone has pulled off her boots and tucked her under the comforter. She is no longer sleeping next to Elena but someone decidedly more solid and distinctively male. They're not face to face though, and when she realizes what Stefan's done she groans.

Sitting up she shoves his legs away from her, wrinkling her nose, "Really Stefan, your feet by my face?" She sees that at some point Elena moved to the other empty bed with Damon. Her friend is now sitting up too, as Damon still dozes lazily next to her, his arm draped across her waist.

Stefan blinks up at her from across the bed, an amused smirk forming on his lips. She glowers at him, not caring whose there to see, "What are we in sixth grade?"

He stretches and instead of answering he asks her, "Still falling asleep with your shoes on, huh Care?"

He knows the answer of course, They had lived together, and he so knows that Caroline is like the Energizer Bunny. She goes and goes until she can't anymore, until she literally just stops working. He'd come home most nights and find her passed out on the couch, the remote in one hand and an empty wine glass in the other, still in her work clothes and high heels. Taking care of her today had felt familiar, an old routine, and had given him something to do while his ex and his brother snuggled up a bed over.

She rolls her eyes at him and focuses her eyes back on the doorway. She gives Klaus, who is of course lingering, her most sardonic stare as she asks, "I need a different outfit. Have our bags been sufficiently vetted?"

"In the closet," he nods, his face blank.

"Yes by all means it's the perfect time for a wardrobe change," Rebekah snarls from the hallway.

She throws her feet off the bed and heads for the closet, grabbing the first things that don't look as restricting as her painted on jeans and her club top. As she does so she replies to the bitch just outside the room, "God Rebekah will you just take a pill and stop pretending you're the only one who wants to be here?" She walks back across the room to the bathroom, making eye contact with Elena and Stefan, you know the people whose opinion and support she actually wants, "It will take ten seconds. I'll meet you in the driveway."

She pulls on her clothes and pulls her messy hair into a high pony tail. She splashes some cold water onto her face until the dreams go away and her brain is functioning at its normal rate. She wipes her face with a hand towel and then stares at herself in the mirror for a second trying to prepare even fractionally for what she might see tonight. Her nightmares turned reality. "Go team," she mutters to herself.

When she opens the bathroom door she is not surprised to find him waiting for her in the hallway. He's leaning nonchalantly against the far wall and when he sees her he tilts his head and asks, "All right love?"

"I'm fine," she sighs, smiling in fake cheerfulness, "I've faced bigger bitches then your sister." She heads towards the front door without waiting for him to follow.

"I have no doubt," he replies from behind her, and then she feels five fingers wrap around her forearm and bring her to a halt, "There's no chance I could talk you into staying here is there?"

"If you want to piss me off," she answers simply, still looking straight ahead.

"You already look quite pissed off," he points out and she refuses to find the awkward way the slang slips off his tongue charming.

She turns to face him then, her head moving so fast she nearly gets smacked in the face by her own ponytail, "This is the face I have when I'm about to face an invincible monster to save my friend."

"You won't be hurt Caroline," he promises, and he means it to be comforting but it has the opposite effect.

She lifts her chin, "I'm not afraid."

He doesn't squint or scrutinize her. Instead this small smile forms on his lips when he observes, "Liar."

He says it like a fact, like he knows her, and she feels anger spark from somewhere deep inside of herself. She tries to pull away and he lets her, "You don't know me." She says that like it's a fact too.

He doesn't so much as blink, "I don't mean anything by it love. It's a strength, to keep moving even when you're afraid." He tilts his chin slightly to look directly into her eyes, "It's bravery."

"It's love," she corrects, just because she wants to see him squirm. She turns and begins to walk back towards the front door. It's within sight now. She's almost there.

"Stay close," he calls, and she can hear the smugness in his voice, "And refrain from doing anything stupid."

"No promises," she mutters, once again without looking back at him. She wants to go. She wants to get this over with.

But then he's in front of her somehow, looming over her and blocking her path, "Flippancy will get you compelled and sitting on the front porch for the next six hours."

"Compulsion will get you hatred for the rest of eternity," she snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest. Her reality is beginning to resemble her nightmares a little too closely, "I'm not a doll, and my life and death are up to me."

"You plan to die," she not sure how he manages to make the question sound like a threat.

"No," she snorts like he's made a joke. She refuses to take this seriously, to entertain the notion that he gets to give her orders, because maybe if she keeps acting like a bitch on wheels she will finally start to feel like one on the inside, "but if I did you would have exactly zero say in the matter,"

"How about lets call this whole thing off? My aid vanishes," he threatens suddenly. He wouldn't, but he's fairly certain she doesn't know that. Her knowledge of his baser instincts finally comes in handy. She's never quite sure what he's capable of.

To his fury all she does is shrug, "Fine with me, you help up your end of the bargain. We can handle the rest. Feel free to sit on the front porch for the next six hours."

She makes an attempt to walk around him and once again he blocks her. It brings them yet closer. "You forget who you're talking to," he hisses, eyes turning feral. Is she supposed to be intimidated?

What emotion is she feeling? The one that's blooming within her as he snarls? She hates herself when she realizes it's relief. That this argument is a blessing to her, because considerate Klaus scares her. He always has. This is easier. This is hate, this is derision, this is something that she can fight against.

"So do you," she replies, refusing to back down, "You think I don't understand that this is a game to you?"

He blinks, his rigid posture relaxing ever so slightly, "You're not a game."

"This _is_ me," she points out, throwing her hands up in the air. How many times does she have to explain such simple concepts? How long until he understands the basic concepts of her life? "These people made me, Matt made me, and he'd die for me too."

He kinks an eyebrow, and Caroline can feel the atmosphere in the room shift, "And this declaration must be so extreme?"

She purses her lips, "I don't want you to think I promised you something. I don't know what's going to happen. I never do, and I may be afraid, but I'm not going to let it stop me from doing what needs to be done to save my friend."

"Bloody reckless," he practically spits at her, but it sounds almost resigned to the fact.

"No," she corrects, and this time it's her who takes a step forward, who tilts her head and looks him dead in the eye as she asks, "What's it gonna take for you to understand? It's all love. All the bad things I do, but all the brave, amazing things too. I know you can feel it, that you can swallow your pride and be selfless too. Have you forgotten so fast?"

She wonders if it's because of her age that her memories still remain vivid. Maybe after a thousand years it will all start to blur together for her too. But she can still remember lying on that couch, preparing to die of a bite he inflicted on her. He had saved her for the second time that night, the second time when there would have been pretty much no consequences for his action other then she would have no longer existed in the world. The second time that had been all the prompting he'd needed, and still he looks at her like he doesn't understand, like he's actually as dead inside as people seem to think.

When he touches her she doesn't shrink away or flinch, but she doesn't relax even a little bit either. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, a strand that had fallen out of her ponytail as they argued. His hand lingers against the delicate shell of her ear for a split second and it nearly makes her shiver. "I've forgotten nothing," he replies, his voice low, "Which is why I won't allow it to slip away so easily this time."

She laughs to herself, but when she answers her voice is hoarse, "Yes manipulation and threats, eliminating free will, the perfect plan to win someone over."

"How about you explain the perfect plan to me then love," he replies gamely, a small smile forming on his lips, the anger evaporated as quickly as it came.

He'd phrased it as a joke, but as she blinks and steps away from him she replies as if he were serious, "How about I explain the first step, which is called getting out of my way and letting me live my own life?" To illustrate her point she once again tries to walk around him. This time he allows it. She makes it to the front door, turns the knob, and steps out onto the front porch.

And is once again stopped short, this time of her own volition.

Amassed in the driveway are at least a hundred people. Not people actually, but a healthy mix of vampires and hybrids all loading up weapons and themselves into large black SUVs. She feels him step onto the porch next to her and turns her head to look at him, "What the hell?"

"You didn't think we'd be going by ourselves did you?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at her in an amused way that she refuses to classify as adorable, "Being, what did you call it, His Highness, comes with its advantages."

"Great, glad you have plenty of pawns to send out in front of you," she mutters back. There's no heat behind the words, it's almost like a sigh. This is classic Klaus behavior and she's not surprised at all.

"Unlike you I don't feel the need to entertain death as a possibility," he counters and then his hand once again closes over her arm, this time just above the bones of her wrist.

"Let go of me," she requests, but once again there's none of her characteristic annoyance. It's more out of habit then anything else.

"Once you're in the car," he replies, leading her down the steps.

"With my friends," she elaborates, trying to make sure she's not getting put in a car that's going in the opposite direction of the action.

"Yes, with your bloody friends," Klaus groans. The people bustling around in the driveway seem to almost unconsciously step aside for Klaus. Very few try to make eye contact or look at the two of them in any way. She guesses they've been taught their place over the years.

They reach a car towards the back of the driveway. She can tell her friends are inside by the familiar scents that still linger in the air. Sometimes she totally creeps herself out. Klaus pauses, turning her towards him and looking at her in the eye, "Nothing stupid. I require a promise."

"I promise," she replies mechanically, allowing the words no inflection.

"Liar," he sighs, but then he releases her and pulls away. He heads for the driver's seat while Caroline heads towards the very back. Rebekah's in the passenger seat, Elena sits between Elijah and Damon in the second row while Stefan sits alone in the third. She slides in next to him.

Stefan tilts his head, angling his mouth towards her ear and whispering almost imperceptibly, "You okay?"

She nods, running a shaky hand through her hair. Klaus starts the car as the SUVs begin to file out of the driveway.

"Lets go get him," Elena whispers to herself.

"Go team," Damon snarks back.

They pull out onto the quiet streets and the car falls into an uncomfortable silence. Next to her she feels Stefan's hands clench. She reaches across the distance, laces their fingers together, and squeezes. After a second he squeezes back and the rigidity in her shoulders, the anger in her heart that has nothing to do with Stefan, relaxes ever so fractionally.

* * *

The car ride is nearly an hour of prolonged and awkward quiet. She can feel the tension radiating off everyone, powerful vampires preparing for a fight. She keeps hold of Stefan's hand the whole trip, because she wants to keep tabs on him when the action starts.

The road turns from paved to gravel and the car begins to slow. Through the windshield she sees a farm house about a half mile away.

"That's it," Rebekah murmurs, her fingers stroking a map, "It has to be Nik."

The house is dark and she can see no one standing guard or sitting on the front porch. It has to be a trap. Matt's abduction was obviously to lure them all to this place, this moment, together, but for the first time Caroline can't help but feel that this night might not be as difficult as she'd first feared.

And then the house explodes.


End file.
